


The Boy Who Murdered Love

by DaydreamAway



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angels, Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Reddie, Slow Burn, a WHOLE lot of fluff, cupid au???, like really slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 15:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 64,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13883865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaydreamAway/pseuds/DaydreamAway
Summary: Eddie never wanted to be a Guardian of the heart, in fact, he'd rather be fucking dead. So when he's offered a way out, when he's given his last task as a Guardian, it sounds pretty easy. Right?Wrong.His final task? A cold case (nut case) that even Cupid couldn't solve.That nut case's name? Richie Tozier





	1. God, I Hate Being a Guardian

"It's not fair how come I'm still alone?!"

Continuing to flick through a magazine the man sighed, he'd heard this all far too many times, had been hearing it non-stop for the entire morning. If he heard one more proclamation of love or loneliness he was sure he'd rip his ears off. Eddie was many things, a waiter, a realist, a germaphobe - and a Guardian on the heart. He got guys like this all the time, ones complaining that they didn't understand why they were alone (spoiler, it’s because they’re grossly desperate.) Honestly... He preferred these cases, so much more than the incessant flow of lovesickness he usually got. It couldn't be escaped, with his every turn, no matter where he went it would prey on him, the disgusting aura clinging to him. The close proximity triggering an underlying sense of claustrophobia and general hatred of… Skinship. Protecting people from heartbreak... It sounds wonderful, doesn't it? Anyone would die for the chance to have a job such as this, helping poor souls with their heartbreak. It sounds magical, right? In a way, Eddie supposed it was, at least it was for anyone but him. It wasn't that he was incapable of experiencing the emotion, Eddie loved many things; sleeping, old films, music, getting any type of rest, he held all these dearly to his heart but romantic love? It could bite his ass and crawl back into whatever hellish excuse of a location it came from. It could bite his fucking ass. And bite his ass it _would_.

You may wonder how to become a Guardian of the heart and Eddie's answer? He had no fucking clue, he'd simply awoken one day and been told this was his life, that he had chosen it for himself even!  _Love Love Love,_ he'd had enough of it for a lifetime for someone who was the literal personification of it. Well, he wasn't the real personification of love - that was Cupid, but Eddie was one of the many carriers and representatives. Cupid was the picture of what love should look like, fluttering eyelashes, chocolate skin and eyes and adorning a pastel suit at all given times they were quite the picture, the kind of being you'd see in the Romantic era of painting. 

"There's nothing wrong with loving love!"

Looking up from the magazine he was met by the sight of two people bickering, the taller of the two waving his arms wildly, soda in hand and, out of the two, it was this one that caught his attention. Peering closer it could be seen that the man was actually genuinely annoyed as he absently he let himself wonder just what had got him so worked up. Prepared to brush it off and leave the man, he ruffled his wings, when all of sudden he felt the tug. Oh, _fuck_ he thought miserably, not this again. The pull was something Guardian's experienced when their target had been recognized when their new job is decided. He wanted nothing more than to brush this feeling off his shoulders, on its own it was unpleasant but the further you got from your client the worse it became, the pain budding in your chest like a rose of thorns. Sighing with bitter disappointment he descended to the sidewalk, forcing his wings to fold in on themselves. He looked like anyone else, at least he would if not for the pinkish hair and slight glitter above his cheekbones, falling off his eyelashes with every blink. Following was never an easy task. Watching the two entire a coffee shop he thanked the Gods, _hah_ , Gods, that it was _the_ coffee shop, the one he worked in. Rushing past the two as discreetly as possible he made eye contact with the other waiter, Stan, handing girls their coffee. Making a hopefully discernable gesture he convinced said man to shrug off his apron, handing it to him questioningly. Taking his place behind the counter Eddie attempted to shoo him away, of course, this was Stan Uris, a terribly snobbish Guardian.

"Your shift doesn't start till two, you're an hour early," Stan started, unimpressed gaze sticking to him as he added, "You're trying to steal my wages aren't you?"

Sighing with exasperation the Guardian stilled his fumbling, "Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. Now go back to the dorms or whatever you do outside here."

Although irritated his plan worked, Stan took off while mumbling faint profanities under his breath, all of which Eddie took great amusement in hearing. Stan was the best friend, and only if he was being honest, he had and it was because they shared such dry humour they got on so well. Outside of his humiliating crush on their Guardian boss, his friend wasn't too keen on love either although he undermined just how revolted Eddie felt by it half the time, as it only amplified when he got the tug once more, alerting him to his target's enter. He was pretty attractive, the Guardian noted. In an obscure way, the type that back in high school wouldn’t have been considered particularly nice looking, but nowadays held the appeal of a scrawny frontman in an indie band. With an uncomfortable twinge, he realized how strong the aura of the man was, so powerful that it drowned out even the teenagers in the cafe, a feat everyone knew was hard to accomplish. He worked a smile on his face all the same, ignoring the revolutionary twitch of permanent annoyance.

"What can I get you today?"

"Latte for her and an iced americano for me," 

Names?"

"Beverly,

Dread settled in his stomach as he turned to the man, moth's rearing their ugly wings in a singing hellish choir, out for love's blood. This would finalise the link between them and what their relationship would have to become. 

"Richie."

And there it was, the second thorn, nestling itself invisibly in his chest.

"I'll get those right to you."

Taking his time to make said drinks he glanced back at the two, Beverly and Richie, looking back just as quick with agitation. It most definitely wasn't a false alarm. It was foolish of Eddie to even assume there was a possibility of it being fake, it happened once every what, five years? No, Cupid was very particular about how they assigned targets if they screwed up you knew something was amiss. Taking hold of the drinks he made his way over to the table, consciously swiping away the glittery substance that had settled on his cheekbones.

"One Latte and Iced Americano," Setting the cups down the Guardian gave his trademark smile, one he'd practised before coming to work every morning, it had nothing on Stan’s smile, one ground into him after years in a strict family, "Hope you enjoy your drinks."

Ready to scurry off to the counter his wrist was pulled back by a curious Richie, keeping ahold of his wrist the man gave a sound of interest, "I'm curious, do you go to the Uni down the street?"

Blinking rapidly the Guardian resisted the urge to laugh, to even hide an amused smile was near impossible. _Did he go to the Uni here_? Lord, he wished Eddie fucking yearned for his school days if he didn’t have to do this. Anything was better than his current situation. “No I don’t, sorry.”

Letting go the man gave a disappointed hum, returning his gaze to the woman, Beverly, he proceeded to ignore Eddie's look of interest. Spinning on his heel he made a disgruntled groan as if the pain in his chest wasn't enough his target appeared to lack basic manners. It wasn't like he'd never had to work over an asshole before but there was something about this man that was already getting under his skin, under his skin in a way the thorns couldn't. With dismay he served the next few customers, pausing only when he saw Richie drain the last of his coffee dramatically, saw him stretching in this tattered jersey as he made his leave. Absently Eddie prayed the jersey had been washed within the last year. This absent concern didn’t last long.  _Fuck._

He couldn't let him get away before explaining the situation if he let him get away the pain of the prickly stems would only work up in volume until he couldn't move. Once you agreed to a contract the thorns would disappear. There was only one way the thorns could return if the unimaginable happened if you fell for said target. When being warned of this the brunette had laughed in Cupid's face, called him out on being an utter twat, Eddie Kaspbrak? Falling in love? If that wasn't the most ridiculous and disgusting concept ever proposed. Being around people in love was one thing…. Experiencing it? Fuck that. It was only when he thought of this did Eddie count his blessings, at least, at _least_ he wasn’t one with a worm in his heart, a parasitic leach inhabiting his brain, taking a drag of a cigarette and releasing poisonous toxins into his brain. That’s what Mama had always called his type of love. Poisonous. Scrambling out of his apron he made a point of texting Stan, a brief explanation of the situation, something he knew the guy would break his neck for later. He most likely wouldn't even be mad because of the extra work he'd have, in fact, he could hear it now the,

_"More paperwork for me means Cupid's going to be stressed, Eddie. They have enough on their plate without you screwing around."_

Shuddering at the thought of the future scolding the Guardian made quick work of spotting the curly haired man, Hell, how couldn't he when his outfit was so loud. Keeping his gaze away from the ridiculous khaki trousers he tracked the movements, watched him bidding goodbye to the pretty woman, Beverly, the woman who he hadn't made his mind up about yet. From the little peek he'd gotten into Richie's mind they didn't appear to be dating, perhaps they dated in the past... Either way, the way said woman looked at the man was that of adoration and loyalty, both platonic and romantic emotions. Waiting until Richie had turned into a less crowded area of town he saw his chance, trailing silently he caught the man making his way through a deserted route, a route that confused him. Seizing his chance he cleared his throat.

"Richie Tozier," Taking a deep breath, preparing for it, "You need to stop falling in love."

"Huh?" Turning around the man raised his eyebrows suspiciously before settling into a pleased expression "If you want my number you can just ask."

" _No_ ," His stance faltered at that, "I'm - Fuck, _listen_ , I'm a Guardian of the heart and I've been assigned to sort out whatever the fuck you think you're doing."

A silence stretched before them, an uncomfortable one. Surveying the Guardian up and down another laugh was stifled, "Do you not think this is a bit extravagant? Seriously, I’m down for us meeting."

"How conceited can you get?" Eddie mumbled under his breath, he was going to have to use the last resort, "Just look, okay?"

Ruffling his wings tentatively he let them unfurl, blowing a gust of wind around him, they too, were a shade of baby pink. Although he'd never tell Cupid or Stan he'd grown quite fond of the colour pink. Taking great satisfaction is gauging his target's expression he stifled a laugh himself, this was perhaps the best part of his job, witnessing the shock and confusion on their faces. To be feared? Didn’t sound so bad. To be looked on with horror and disgust, however? Too familiar.

"Holy _shit_."

"Will you listen now?"

You have wings... So what? Unless you're interested in anything I'll be off, or… Can you do some other freaky things?"

"Did you really not listen to what I said?" The Guardian deadpanned, brows furrowing in a way they seemed to have commonplace "You're messing with my workload with whatever you're doing and I need to fix it. All I’m asking is if you could maybe calm it on the loving love?"

With a slightly paler complexion than before Richie cocked his head "Doesn't Cupid want people to love love?"

Glancing skywards Eddie sighed, that was true enough, at least kind of. "To a certain extent sure but... Can I be frank?"

"Go for it."

"There's something wrong with you."

"Want to say that again?"

"Something is wrong with you, Richie. I wouldn't be here if there wasn't."

"Are you from heaven or something? There's something wrong with _you_ if you think I'm going to believe this bullshit."

"Do you honestly think it's natural to fall in love as much as you do?" Eddie snapped furiously, "It's not normal, you're fucking with people's lives here."

Cupid wouldn't be amused right about now, Guardian's were supposed to have pride in their patience, unwavering dedication to their perseverance. He could already hear the cluck of their tongue, shaking their head with disappointment. Even Eddie would admit he might've lost his cool without caution, the scenario seemed to stir something in him, Richie's attitude reminding him of something, someone. At this point the man’s shoulder's were shaking, bobbing up and down with barely contained rage, it was okay, he'd handled worse. There were many times in this job he'd had to physically stop people from acting out, these circumstances usually occurring when it was teens, not adult men. Not scrawny, odd-taste-in-fashion men.

"Listen," Eddie tried again, temper wearing weaker by the second, fists clenched, "Just let me help you and it'll be over in no time."

"I don't need help. I don't need to be fixed, there's nothing wrong with me." The words were harsh and yet the man’s voice was damn near cracking, a hard look seeping through his thick glasses, "Do whatever you want but I'm leaving."

Thinking rapidly the Guardian made a grab for the man's wrist, only needing a second for his plan to be set into action. Letting go just as quickly he couldn't hold a sense of disgust, he hated using this method, hated physically tracking targets. Hated touching them. Or anyone. What he'd done was a parlour trick, rubbing of glittery substance from his wings onto the inside of the man's wrist, it would make him stand out for more, at least, for forty-eight hours. He could do this. Forty-Eight hours. He could've chased after Richie, could've shaken him upside down or tossed him into the sky, leaving him suspended in mid-air... He could've done any of that but he didn't'. No matter how tempting it was, no matter how much bitter glee he would take in it he didn’t. As much as he hated to admit it Cupid was right, it wouldn't always work the first time around, sometimes you just had to try again tomorrow. And try he _would_ because this case would be the death of him if need be. He was leaving this world of love. He was.


	2. Of Thorns and Roses... But Mostly Thorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be up later but I'd like to make it clear that this is a chaptered fic! There is so much I want to write, and include in this universe to please look forward to that.
> 
> And also I am a writer and please remember all writers love comments! I am no exception

"You finally going to explain what happened yesterday?"

"They already told you, right?"

Stood across from him, arms crossed, was a highly unamused Stan Uris.

"Obviously, but I still want to hear it from you." There was a sulkiness in those words, one familiar in him, "Honestly though... How did it go?"

Stan, with his peculiar mount of curls and eyes that could snap from glazed over to fierce amusement in seconds. He looked even worse than usual - Not to say Stan was an unattractive guy, in fact, Eddie admitted to Stan on more than one occasion that he cleaned up well, with a little food in him and a bath his face shone and showcased his sharp angles. He was just always so... Tired, and it showed. In quicker but not as quick as could be reflexes, Eddie sometimes opened his eyes to see how hard his friend worked, and sometimes he felt guilty for how much he complained. That was before Stan opened his mouth. He looked at the man curiously for another second, so Cupid hadn't disclosed all the information to him, no words of the fact that this would be his last task? Thankful the Guardian sent a sort of silent thanks skywards for the being, it was for the best, Stan always had a big and mouthy opinion and as much as he loved him he couldn't deal with that then.

"Well..." There was no point in sugarcoating it, "He's an asshole."

"I doubt he's that bad," Came the formulaic and dryly amused reply. "He seemed fine."

"Yeah, when you're not the one dealing with him he must seem delightful." Eddie scoffed, cuffing the back off his curls.

"It's you, you'll get this over within no time." Filled in the reassuring words, the genuine solidarity of their friendship.

If only he could have that enthusiasm, watching strangers through the glass with a wistful sigh, catching his attention was none other than the lanky figure himself. Meeting the Guardian's gaze through the window Richie gave the man, someone Eddie had never seen, next to him a pat on the ass, turning on his heel. Bitterly he turned his head, he was taking it as a joke, probably still thought of him as a man pursuing his attention. Looking back up at the other waiter he contemplated seeking advice, advice on something he knew anyone would disapprove of. Hell, even he didn't want to do it but it was a thought.

"Is it a bad idea to go to his house? Scare him with my powers?"

"Well I mean," Stan seemed to take it into serious consideration, "Just don't give him a heart attack."

It was always a gamble flying up to the window unless his target was a smoker, most didn't leave a window open, not with how filthy the air was. If he was right, which he should be, Richie would be walking through the door in a little more than five minutes, he'd take advantages of his time. Searching the apartment he scrounged for any information, any indication of what kind of person Richie Tozier was even if it was only something minuscule he'd use it, so far Richie Tozier was an enigma, something that would have to be studied thoroughly in order to make any changes. Picking up on the unlocking of the door his feathers ruffled, settling his gaze expectantly on the door as the man entered, balancing groceries on one arm and coffee in the other. It wouldn't be wise to startle him, silently he clearing his throat before he raised his voice.

"Richie?" 

He knew it wouldn't end well, not after the man simultaneously dropped both his groceries and coffee, not when _that_ look was surfacing. Making a point to stay levitated he swooped ever so slightly to the side as Richie stomped his way towards him. With unprecedented mirth, he contemplated how such a slim man could make that much noise. However, this unexpected mirth was soon gone as he focused on not getting every single one of his feathers ripped out and, thankfully, he avoided any major damage, the man only barely getting hold of one feather. Once the man appeared to tire of chasing him around, or at least realized it was pointless, he settled himself on the edge of the couch, looking him up and down with what emotion he wasn't sure. He could only hope it wasn't homicidal - Or even worse, suicidal. He could take care of himself if Richie Tozier wanted to murder him but if Richie wanted to kill himself... He'd be watching him twenty-four seven hours a day, an activity he was sure would make Eddie himself suicidal. 

"How did you even-" Gaze flickering to his open windows Richie let out a sigh, "The windows, huh?"

There was something about the relaxed tone the man was using that strangely unsettled the Guardian, it was almost like the calm before the storm and whatever storm was brewing behind Richie's cool eyes Eddie had no idea, but he'd be damned if he didn't say it worried him. Carefully calculating the brief silence he decided to make an attempt to speak,

"You know I don't want to be here, it's my job and it's a pretty important case for me."

"So I'm a case?" An eyebrow rose, "Is that your subtle way of calling me a nutcase? "

Took the words right out of my mouth.

"Well, I mean - "

"Don't answer that!" Richie all but screeched.

Sensing a vague shift in his target's hostility he almost got relieved, "Does this mean you're going to let me do my work?"

"What? N-" Jumping up in surprise the young man stared him down, assessing Gods knows what, "Listen since you don't seem like a serial killer I'll let you stick around me, but don't be expecting anything from me, okay? This,"

Gesturing to himself slowly the man's hand stopped at his waist, "Is not easy access."

Eddie really tried, he honestly did, but he couldn't help but let a chortle pass his lips, "I assure I neither want or need to get that well acquainted with you."

And I know where you've been, Eddie thought to himself silently. The reaction he got was a look of bare hostility, although. his posture wasn't quite as rigid as before, instead, Richie's shoulders were sagging, a slouch that he was sure if he didn't spend so much time out-and-about would evolve into a permanent slouch. With a forsaken glance back at his greasy, stained couch Eddie let his eyes flit back to his target who was slowly opening his mouth.

"Then what exactly does your job entail?" 

 

___________________

 

Sitting across from each other in Richie's small apartment, cups of coffee going now stone cold as they took up the use of a hand-warmer. The Guardian had never explained the situation in this way, almost like a business meeting, he'd never _had_ to to do it before. The man's face, now composed a resolute expression, stared him down, awaiting his answer to what exactly did his job entail. God, if that question wasn't the most laughable thing Eddie didn't know what was. He had no doubt the man across from him would badger him with questions about whether he can really fly, whether he would spy on him in the shower... These were the normal question's he got. 

  
"Well since you're kinda stupid we'll start with the basics," Eddie casually tossed the insult in despite everything. He knew damn well after looking at Richie's file he wasn't totally stupid, "Guardians get assigned for lots of reasons, all revolving around love obviously, and you were considered a cold case for quite a while. At least until _I_ got given your file."

"My what now?" Again those crookedly shaped lips twisted in disgust, thick eyebrows raising above the muggy glasses, "Am I a criminal of love or something?"

The way Richie Tozier talked made Eddie Kaspbrak want to vomit.

"I guess you could see it that way," Eddie painstakingly admitted, shuddering. "Basically none of us know what the fuck is wrong with you."

A white lie, Eddie had a pretty good idea what was wrong with him, "You're a mystery to us all,"

"I always got told that was part of my charm." Richie shot back hotly, a usually humorous statement taking on fierceness, "So what do you have to do? Give me some angel loving?"

Murder is a sin. Murder is a _sin_. The Guardian repeated this like a mantra but, then again, he hadn't been one living a life free of sin. 

"Well from what I've observed you fall in and out of love... At a disgusting rate" Taking another peek at the man's file only served to revamp this disgust, it shouldn't be humanly possible to have ' _fallen_ _in love'_ this many times, "Sometimes I'm not even sure you give yourself a chance to fall in love... A lot of one-week stands here."

"And your solution to this supposed disease?"

"Do you have daddy issues or something?" Eddie asked the other rudely, he was being unprofessional and he knew it but Richie Tozier was pressing all the wrong buttons for him, even by doing nothing at all.

"Do you have mommy issues?" He fired back.

He deserved that. But it didn't make his heart twist any less.

"I need you to either stop falling in, what your twisted idea, of love, is..." The Guardian knew the other option would be hard work, from what he'd seen so far it would be near impossible, "Or fall in love for real, none of that fake, fickle bullshit you've been doing your entire life." 

From the way the man's brows furrowed you may think he's mulling the words over, however, you would be sorely wrong as the words that left his mouth were anything but thoughtful and eloquent.

"Nah."

"Nah?"

"Yeah, Nah..." Looking back up at him the man frowned, "Why is my case so important? Am I the only attractive option?"

"I can't." The brunette got out from grounded teeth, feeling he could crack the mug in his hands. "This is my last task, I have to fix you or else-"

Now that caught his interest, much to Eddie's chagrin, "Or else what?"

"Look you bespeckled - " The Guardian barely stopped himself, he didn't need an ass-whopping from Mike, or anyone else up there. "I'll come back later."

Agitated, the Guardian ruffled his wings, splaying sparkling dust as he did so. Thinking back to what he'd tell Cupid, to what he'd have to write in his progress report, all this only got him more aggravated. It seemed like they were making progress, however minuscule. Richie could improve, he knew it was possible... But God did he wish this case wasn't as important as it was. Whether it was just a short attention span or an amusement in winding him up he was sure to head back empty-handed.

"Wait!"

A hand clutched onto his wrist.

"What are you? Bipol-"

Frantically he realized it was too late, having gripped his wrist with such force, sure enough, the man was moving to suck the blood from the prick on his finger. With hurried motions he tugged his hand away from his mouth, preventing what could've been the end of his career as a Guardian and not in a good day. He knew what had to be done, even so, he wasn't looking forward to it, there was no doubt that Richie would get the wrong idea. Even so, he moved the man's pricked finger to his own mouth, pressing his lips as lightly as possible, the blood seeping into his lips, staining them like lipstick. Oh, _fucking hell._ He'd have to sanitize his mouth a thousand times after this, he knew exactly where Richie's hands had probably been and even keeping his mouth to the man's thumb for a second was far too much. His stomach was churning horrendously.

"W-What the hell?"

Oh, Lord. 

"I just saved you a lot of fucking pain," He snapped, "I just healed you from a pretty fatal wound and now I kind of want to chop my own tongue off because you have no idea how much bacteria is on your thumb alone-" 

Seemingly recovering from his initial shock, an eyebrow rose, "So you're saying if I touch you I could die?"

Just barely dodging the man's near assault, a high-pitched squeal attempted to escape his throat, of all the people he'd dealt with Richie Tozier, was the very first to assault him... Well, at least be open about their intent to do so. Attempting to compose himself he let himself float above the other ever so slightly, just enough so he was taller than him, something that much to his annoyance served to remind the Guardian of their height difference. How could Cupid expect him to appear powerful at his normal height? All he had asked for was a couple inches, only a few but no. Of course not.

"No, that is most definitely not what I'm saying," Eddie started frustrated, wringing his hands, "You just got pricked by a thorn in my wrist that - Surprise, you caused."

"So... It's like some S&M shit, huh?" 

He wanted to commit homicide. Eddie Kaspbrak, ready to accept the wrath of his mother, was prepared to commit murder right there and then. It seemed very worth it at that particular moment.

"What I mean - This thorn is going to keep growing unless I fix you."

He'd contemplated explaining more to the poor dumbstruck man, explain the other circumstances in which these thorns could grow, however considering the possibility of those circumstances ever happening... It would be a waste of breath. The breath he felt was beginning to deplete. Being on earth too long without proper supplies, paired with his asthma... Eddie felt like he could die, taking Richie Tozier along with him. Double homicide, since the loudmouthed man was the whole reason he was down here. His fault, totally not Eddie's for forgetting his supplies pack. Watching the man carefully he felt a wave of ease as the malice and mischief in his aura faded to a dull thoughtfulness, the aura illuminating him a light lilac. A colour like that was usually a good sing, however, it did nothing but fill him with dread.

"I'm still not certain that you're not just some desperate guy trying to get in my pants." Richie clarified haughtily. 

 _Bleh_ **_._ **

"A desperate guy that has wings and thorns growing inside his wrist?" The Guardian muttered unimpressed. 

Shooting daggers his target sighed, "But I don't think it's a good idea to ignore this, it looks... Pretty bad"

"So?"

"You have my permission to work that angel magic or whatever it is you came here to do," Just as he was thanking the Gods, whatever all-powerful being watching over him for it finally being sorted, those crooked lips quirked, "However, I don't plan on making it an easy job." 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, another chapter. The next one... Might be a little later? I don't know, my life has been unpredictable as of late :(. But the boys!! They're making progress,,, Kinda. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy what I have in store.


	3. Cupid Gives Pretty Good Advice

"Any luck yesterday?"

"You already know the answer to that."

He would never feel comfortable sitting in Cupid's office, it was unnerving to no end, the room overwhelmingly... _Cute_. To top it all off littered around the room were things like teddy bears, miscellaneous candies, roses and other carnations, all out to kill his sensitive senses and resurface childhood memories he'd much rather forget, thank you. It wasn't that the being themself made him uncomfortable, in fact, he was rather glad to be in their company as they were one of the only people he wouldn't get the instant surge of ' _love_ ' from. That's right, Cupid couldn't experience romantic or sexual attraction to anyone, humans or other Guardians... At least as far as Eddie knew. He was pretty sure Stan knew this too while he was also fairly certain his friend's feelings about and on Cupid were wild as ever. Even if Stan kept his feelings in check and sometimes showed no display of being capable of the disgusting emotion of love... Eddie could feel it, as a Guardian you could sense when another Guardian was in love.

"Eddie, I told you that it wasn't necessary to refer to me as Cupid here," A sheepish smile flitted across their lips, reminiscent of an awkward teen while carrying the weight on a thousand secrets of an old man.

"Sorry," Eddie excused, never letting his shoulders slouch, "Mike." 

The name earned him a passing grin, one that he had to admit made them look painstakingly youthful, Hell, with a face like that they could pass for Stan's age. Although at the ripe age of nineteen Stan could pass for older, the dark circles under his eyes making him look like a sleep and coffee-deprived father of eight.

Vaguely Eddie remembered teasing his co-worker about his 'feelings' and about how if Mike actually looked their age the crush would vanish like  _that_ but unsurprisingly the boy defended himself, in his head, claiming his affection for them lied beyond physical appearance. Lord, it was that kind of lovey-dovey crap that made him ill. By now he'd given up on censoring his thoughts, all his opinions were made more than clear by his mannerisms, and as for Stan's  'secret-crush?' Anyone could see it, even Mike, especially Mike. 

"I actually did call you here for a reason," Mike admitted, "You've been here six months and Richie Tozier, he's going to be your one-hundredth task here, perhaps one of your last."

It took him a couple beats, "Wait, what?  

"I've been thinking about this for a while, I'm not even certain yet but it's becoming painfully clear you aren't going to change your attitude," It was a sad smile that followed, "Can't say I'm not disheartened but it's your life. I'm considering letting you go after this task, it's a pretty taxing one."

"Seriously?!" He still couldn't quite believe it, these six torturous months coming to an end, it was a damn miracle, "Thank you, so much, so fucking much."

Lifting his eyebrows he could tell Mike was mentally scolded him for his language, "It's fine but Eddie... You realize it isn't all simple? The same rules will apply."

"What?" He paused in his gleeful celebration, raising his own eyebrow at Cupid in an 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me?' type of fashion. "Come on Mike, you really think I'm going to fall for _that_? Or anyone?"

If he had no interest in falling in love before then Richie Tozier only revamped his reasoning why. A man incapable of commitment and whose heart was as fickle as a love-struck teen... Yeah, _real appealing_ , the Guardian thought sarcastically. Standing up to leave Mike massaged their temples, frowning slightly he thought about Stan's unspoken words, just how taxing their job really was, what a strain it put on their mind. If Eddie was tired of the sickly stench of love clinging to him he had no idea how Mike must feel. Making a point of bowing his head Cupid smiled.

"Come on, no need to be so formal." Mike's sarcasm was weak, "Even if you reject my other warning just remember you have two weeks?"

Now that was... Different. In most cases Guardian's were given a month, in the case they got sick or their target was being irresponsible. Usually, it would only take Eddie a day or two, providing that the case was just unwanted fluttering feelings and not a case of heartbreak or worse, and rarer, Stockholm syndrome.

Thankfully he realized Richie didn't fit into any of those categories, at least not yet. God, it wasn't like it was impossible though, his target was a weird fuck so who knows what other shit he could get his heart into.

Swiping his file off of Stan he took care in flicking through it, this was the case, the one that would finally set him free. The sweet release of his death as a Guardian, of getting back to his normal life... Or at least he hoped he would. Eddie couldn't actually fully remember what he'd been doing before a Guardian, he obviously knew he worked in a coffee shop and he was studying at the Uni down the road but... Sometime's he'd get flashes. Not of clear images but of how he sometimes felt in day to day life, and it was these surges of emotions that prompted the Guardian to hope the life awaiting him after this was... Nothing like those feelings.

These feelings, the brunette decided shouldn't budge his excitement, he was free and that would be it. He was beyond thrilled that he was free, at least if not the snag in the back of his head, a voice telling him it was too good to be true. What if the case was unsolvable? If it was a cold case assigned as a cruel joke? No, Mike wouldn't do that, he wouldn't purposely fuck up.

Looking through his target's fact file he realized none of this gave him any implication of what was wrong with him, what he'd have to do the fix it, fix _him_. The only information he lifted was that he was twenty-three, a year younger than Eddie, born and raised in some little town, currently studying music theory in Uni, addicted to a diversity of things including smoking, sex and apparently he was allergic to cooking his own damn food since all he ate was Mc-Fucking-Donalds every goddamn day,

So basically,... This file was useless in clueing him in where the problem had originated, nothing about his childhood or what could've made him the way he was...

He had a shit ton of work to do.

______________________________________________

  
It had been a day and a half since his target, Richie Tozier, had agreed to comply and let him to his job, the most painful day and a half of his life. As much as he hated to say it, and believe him he did,  Cupid may have made the right choice in giving him extra time on this case, what little progress occurred was at a snail's pace, a snail that Eddie wanted to stamp the life out of... He was against animal abuse, seriously, but it didn't count if the snail took on the form of a bespeckled asshat, did it?

The Guardian swore he was patient... He tolerated Stan, didn't he? It only this whole overdramatic, should-change-his-major-to-drama asshole of a guy that was pressing all the wrong buttons. One of those Eddie knew was a self-destruct that was beginning to seem more and more appealing the more time he spent in his target's company.

Today would be a trial day one, Eddie decided. The short Guardian had already scrapped the first plan which consisted of making sure the target wouldn't fall in love again. Pff _'fall in love.'_

With a disgruntled glance at his target, Eddie knew the second option was the only way he'd get anything done. He'd have to get Richie Tozier to fall in love for real. No fake, fickle bullshit that he'd been doing half his life.

"You already said I fall in love too easily, right?" Leaning over the counter of the coffee shop was none other than Richie himself, the ugly grin still taking up half his face "All we have to do is find a hot guy and there! Done!" 

Resisting the urge to whack him, the Guardian and part-time barista undid his apron, "I did say that, however, I also said you were fucked in more ways than one. It's been years since you've genuinely fallen in love a with a person,"

Pausing slightly he observed his target's reaction, yet as always, his expression remained goofy and uncouth with no trace of concern. He'd learned by now to take this silence as a signal to keep talking, "At some point in your life it all just stopped. I say you fall in love a lot but really you just date around a lot."

By this point they had sat opposite each other at one of the small tables, Stan having rushed in moments after, barely glancing his way, hair in a mountain of unkempt waves. Brushing it off he focused on the task at hand, at the man in front of him who, unsurprisingly, had his eyebrows raised.

"Date around a lot?" While his lips were curled the emotions portrayed in his words were indistinguishable. "Are you calling me a slut?" 

It was impossible to tell whether he was amused or offended by the implication. Eddie didn't find himself caring which it was.

"The situation would be a whole lot easier if you were," Eddie muttered truthfully since you never really had a problem with people who had a lot of sex... As long as their life wasn't endangered. "From what I see you don't date around for the sex, correct me if I'm wrong. You stay with people for an average of maybe two or so months, long enough for love to actually start to take form but then you just... Break it off?"

"Are you sure you aren't actually just a therapist with wings?" Richie asked, a mix of genuine curiosity and enjoyment of aggravating this 'therapist,' sparking in his eyes. "How are you gonna go about making me fall in love, huh? You have some arrows up you-"

"Not arrows but I do have small tricks up my sleeve," Interrupting through gritted teeth the Guardian braced himself on the table. "I only use them as last resorts or for... Unruly clients. Now onto finding the love of your life..."

This only earned a loud and pompous laugh from the other, "Good luck with that."

"Listen, you don't have to marry the damn guy-"

"That would be a bit hard considering my devout loyalty to my religion."

_Oh my fucking God._

Would he never let him finish a sentence? And he wasn't even going to question what his supposed 'religion' was. "You don't have to be with this guy forever but, please for the love of God, try and fall in love." 

Leaning across the small table his target, peered at his face, causing the brunette to want to check his face for traces of the any 'Guardian glitter.' However, before he could do so the man's coffee-and-cigarette breathe blew the glitter away, leaving Eddie tempted to cough due to the unpleasant fragrance. Smoke was something that the Guardian had never learnt the attraction of, both the habit itself and the fondness some had for the scent on a person.

It was intoxicating and fatal, nothing romantic about it.

"You can't just try and fall in love," The dark-haired man argued, although he had all the fire of a stoner in his resolution. "You're like, an angel of love shouldn't you know that? Or are you like a robot and can't experience emotion? That would be pretty fucking cool."

"Guardian," Eddie corrected almost sulkily before crossing his arms, "And as a Guardian, I know whenever someone can't fall in love it's something to do with themself, with their mental state. There's something stopping you from falling in love."

"I fall in love plenty, I get all the ladies... And gentlemen. I'm a beacon of motherfucking love! In case you haven't noticed."

"Believe me I have," Rubbing his temples Eddie decided it best to press on, "Let's start off easy, hm? What's your ideal type?"

He didn't know what answer he was expecting, there really would be nothing left to surprise him if Richie came out and said someone like Keanu Reeves.

"Seriously?" He asked, a strange smiling settling before shrugging, "Don't have one." 

"Lies." It wasn't a Guardian's place to chip in, but then again Eddie's patience was waning, "Guys like you always have a type."

"Guys like me." Repeating his words, Richie's tone was practically leaking satire, "Please, my angry angel, explain what you mean by guys like me."

Letting his left eye twitch slightly at the new nickname, the Guardian swallowed thickly, if he was dead by end of the two weeks then it would indefinitely be by his own hands. Staring down the enlarged eyes, masked by glasses that Eddie was disgusted to notice were flecked with specs of immeasurable dust and dirt. Dust and dirt... Basically what Richie Tozier must see in his apartment every day.

Shivering at the sheer thought of his target's apartment, the Guardian brought his hardened gaze back to him, noting his similarities to a dung beetle, or just a beetle.

"Come on, bugboy you know exactly what I mean." Gesturing to his head to foot a disgusted sound escaped, "You could have any guy or girl you wanted, you could get fucking Keanu Reeves if you tried and yet you obviously put thought into who you choose to ruin next."

There was a brief silence following this snappy outburst of his.

"You like Keanu too, huh?"

Eddie wanted to scream, in fact, he was sure any moment the teacup he was clutching with frustration would shatter, any moment now. It was possible he'd never been so aggravated in his life, to the point that when he spotted Stan giving him an encouraging and thumbs up from behind the counter he merely stuck his middle finger up. A message to Cupid for giving him such a shitty case if you would. 

Sensing this irritation a laugh sounded from across him, one so loud that it even attracted a look or two."Like Keanu Reeves is my ideal type." Another snort came. "If you must know my ideal time changes like the seasons! Autumn is for girls, summer is for boys, spring is-"

"Can you... Shut up." The half brunette muttered with newfound impatience. "Do you really have to do this? Are you thriving with making my job more difficult than it already is? Christ, you're an asshole."

Eddie would pay for mouthing off to his target, he knew M- Cupid would have words with him later but at that moment he really didn't give a damn about it. His neck was starting to get hot under his shirt with all the anger and rage he'd managed to hold in thus far. His wings, while invisible at that moment were threatening to pop out as he focused on calming himself, trying to ignore the pain of the thorns in his wrist. They were moving backwards in progress, resulting in the thorns resurfacing and poking at him. A fatal reminder of how important it was he spent his time wisely. Oh, and a fetal pain in the ass as he resisted the itch to itch his wrist.

"It's not as if you cant snag a girl or guy either, you're not that ugly,"  Insisting this with a scrutinizing gaze Richie shrugged, "I'm guessing it's a guy you'd want to snag, given your possessiveness regarding Keanu. We could always have a three-"

He was going to ignore the Keanu jabs, the pokes at his childhood crush, the beautiful man didn't deserve that.

"Flattering that you deem me 'not-that-ugly' but I have no interest in a relationship, even with Keanu," Attempting to turn over a new page he tugged at his sleeve to stop himself from itching his wrist,"Anyway-"

"Isn't that a bit... Hypocritical?" Pausing to take a sip of coffee there was a note of sincerity in that question, something he hadn't yet seen from the target. "You don't even want to be in a relationship yourself and you're forcing it on other people."

"Not a hypocrite, just doing my job." Eddie corrected swiftly, "And I can assure you our circumstances and reasonings are completely different."

"Oh do tell me more, Mr Guardian."

Resisting the urge to childishly imitate sticking his fingers down his throat in revulsion Eddie merely looked away from the man, and his long eyelashes comedically batting as if he were Clara Bow.

For the second time, the Guardian wondered why his target wasn't a drama major, there was no doubt he'd fit right in with that lot and, although it may be wishful thinking, maybe he could find someone to actually ground him. Saving that idea into his mental notes of options to try Eddie's eyes moved back to long fingers tapping distractedly. It was possibly his target hadn't sat still since he'd met him. A nervous habit? Disorder?

"Now rephrasing the question... What's your ideal type this week?" Asking this he felt the extra tension build in his shoulders.

No matter what the answer to this question was he wouldn't take it into account when finding Richie a partner. Catering to his fickle tastes would only deeper ingrain his bad habits which obviously would be counter-progressive in every way possible which was clearly something that shouldn't happen. The prime example being the skin-splitting agony he was in with his wrist because no matter how shit he did the thorn would never draw blood. Funny thing that, Guardian's can experience pain worse than death without ever drawing blood... Delightful.

"Hmm..." Tapping his lips faux thoughtfully his lips tugged lazily up at the corners, "Small angry angels?"

 _You are going to kill your target_ , Eddie thought. Don't feel guilty killing your target is a perfectly reasonable thing to do when they're acting like this. Murder isn't a crime if your life is better off without them... Is it? Because his life would be so much easier -

"Son of a bitch!"

All of a sudden a sharp, unearthly pain pricked his thumb. With almost teary eyes and a thousand curse words still flying in his head, Eddie looked down to see a thorn protruding from his thumb, no blood. Discreetly shooting a look at Stan there was no sign that he knew what had happened and so with mild guilt and a whole lot annoyance, Eddie glared skywards at his Boss. Fucking hell.

_**Eddie Kapbrak! Do I have to remove you from this case?** _

Cupid's voice cracked out in outrage like a whip, constricting around his heart like a snake, making his head pound harshly. Cradling his head in his hands for a second Eddie took a couple shallow breaths, he'd heard about Mike entering irresponsible Guardian's heads but it had never happened to _him_. He never fucked up, this was never supposed to happen to him he doesn't make mistakes.

With a slight wince, he took care to whisper a reply, "No, Sorry."

Looking back to Richie he realized he still had the smug grin from his earlier comment. Ah, Mike froze the timezone to give him a row... How _thoughtful_. Taking a couple breaths Eddie returned his attention to his task, to Richie Tozier and figuring out the course of action.

"Guardian." He corrected mildly. "I'm a 5'4 Guardian who has to deal with the likes of you so _yes_ I'm pissed off."

"Then..." Richie started, leaning forward with a serious expression. "Does this mean you're taken?"

"I-"

Eddie was a good Guardian. Good guardians didn't let themselves snap, they had patience with unruly targets and they most certainly didn't go fucking red. Whether it was unbridled anger or embarrassment Eddie didn't know, maybe both, but what he did know has he wanted this job over as soon as possible. Even as Richie bounced back, his laugh shaking his entire body, hand obnoxiously slapping the table.

How... Did whatever God out there hate him?

Had he committed an unforgivable sin in his past life?

Why was he being punished?

Did Mike secretly have it in for him?

These were all questions that darted through his head every time he looked at his target. His loud, dramatic, asshole of a target. Looking around the room Eddie searched for anything that didn't make him want to cut out his own liver, only just spotting Stan who was looking at him with genuine worry, while he hadn't heard the message Mike planted in his head he could probably feel a fraction of the pain he had been in. Guardians were like that. 

"I mean I'm down for polyamorous-"

"You go to Uni, right?" Eddie cut off, he needed to get his head in the game, put the plan into action.

"Y-Yeah?"

Perfect. He'd get the job over within no time, Uni was teeming with... Hormonal assholes.

"Let's start there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy new chapter guys! As always comments motivate me to continue so if you're enjoying this fic please leave your opinion!


	4. The First One

  
It had been only twenty minutes since the Guardian and his target had arrived on campus, twenty minutes of various characters and figures sliding up to Richard Tozier, slugging him on the shoulder and wanting to know when their next session was. All these people sported baggy clothing, greasy hair and a remarkable lack of normal vocabulary - In other words, they were the same sub-species of human that Eddie Kapbrak's target was.

What this sub-species name was Eddie wasn't sure but the more he observed the longer he longed to be surrounded by anything, anyone else. It wasn't only the lack of progression in his mission that was bugging him however, it also had a lot to do with the fact he'd currently shaded himself from other human eyes. Now you may be thinking this would be a plus, that no one could see or talk to him and it was for the most part... It was except for the fact Richie Tozier's greasy friends would often stretch out their arms, revealing damp under arms and stench that made Eddie gag, repulsed.

It was only as they moved to a more secluded area of the campus, in Eddie's mind to put a plan into action, that he thought to remove his invisibility, masking his wings still since... Well, take a wild guess. His target, today donning a tragic combination of sweatpants, a Barbra Streisand t-shirt and scuffed-up boots, seemed to be occupying his brain with anything but what they were here to do. Only now noticing his scrutinizing gaze Richie's mouth twisted hideously, a crude joke no doubt on the tip of his tongue - his tongue that before their left had been occupied while he crammed leftover, most likely out-of-date, Chinese food in his mouth from the fridge. Eddie had paused, opening his mouth to ridicule him as he was doing now before giving up. Richie Tozier was an undisciplined child... With a vulgar grown-up habit.

"It would be easier if he _was_ a child," Eddie muttered to himself bitterly. "You know you shouldn't-"

"Big Bill!" His target screeched gleefully, clapping his hands like the child Eddie was very much beginning to believe he was. His bug-like eyes widened more at the sight of another man walking towards them.

Eddie couldn't help but frown at the extra company, he was already dawdling in the mission compartment and they didn't have all day to track down some other fucked up young adult - The Guardian paused himself, taking time to actually look at the man approaching. Could his answer to his prayers lie in this man? In ' _Big Bill_ '?

As the stranger drew closer to his friend, to his target Eddie took the opportunity to study him. Lanky limbs but not in the ghastly way Tozier's were, there was a clear definition of this man's stance and despite this the way he carried himself... Struck Eddie as rather timid. No, timid wasn't the right word for it, the man's shoulders were straight, his arms hung by his sides still but not limp. Analyzing his posture so thoroughly wouldn't get him anywhere, the Guardian told himself as he moved his eyes up to the man's face and... Well then.

If Eddie was going to have any problem with pairing this guy off with Richie then it would be the uneven ground on which the twos visuals compared. Now, the stranger wasn't devastatingly gorgeous by any means but he had an open and pleasant face, steadfast and candid eyes accompanied by a smiling mouth that made even Eddie feel at ease. If you were to compare the air Eddie got of Big Bill to the one emanating from his target... He was going to have some trouble.

"Hey, Rich." The man replied good-naturedly enough, that is before his fist landed a solid bruise on his target's arm.

"Ow!"

"Any reason you haven't been in class?" The lanky stranger asked, his voice never betraying the obvious annoyance "Any _good_ reason?"

"I'm-"

Only then did Eddie earn the man's attention as his eyes flickered to him with a mix of pity and curiosity, he held out his hand to him, the Guardian took it gratefully. What he was grateful for he didn't quite know but he couldn't bring himself to refuse.

"Bill Denbrough." The now named stranger introduced with vigour, "And how do you know our friend Richie here?"

"He's my G-" Richie started obnoxiously.

"Relative," Eddie interrupted hastily, tagging a smile along as he kept a grip on Bill's hand. "On his Grandma's side is what he meant to say."

 _Lies_. Richie Tozier had never known his Grandparents nor any of his parent's relations. (Eddie had taken this into consideration when theorizing why he was so fucked up.)

"Yeah," Richie muttered, rubbing his arm sulkily. "We haven't seen each other in a while so Eddie just _flew_ by."

"Well," Bill started, looking between the two alternative smiles, Eddie's a lot more pleasant. "I have to get to class 'cause some of us actually wah-want to make a living."

With that Bill Denbrough strode off, long legs stumbling at certain parts as if his body couldn't keep up with his mind, never did he turn around or risk a glance, still leaving a pleasant feeling from the reassuring way in which he had gripped the brunette Guardian's hand. However, Eddie was a lot more cautious at that moment and waited till he couldn't see the man before turning on his target with unbridled annoyance.

"Relative, huh?" Richie crooned, "Gotta say I feel a little weird about all the jokes now, who would've thought our love story would have to end like this!"

"Your love story hasn't even _started_." The brunette seethed, "Can you focus on one thing for even a couple minutes?"

"Sure." The lanky boy-man shrugged, "If the thing is hot."

Eddie was desperately keeping himself from going on a tangent, it wasn't even murderous thoughts at this point it was fatigue. It had been a long day for him and now all he could think was Richie was simply tormenting him for kicks. The guy wasn't completely dumb, his scores proved that but from his attitude in everything regarding school, you'd assume he has some common sense or decency.

"Are you open to suggestions?" The Guardian pushed on, he would make progress today, he had to.

He didn't _really_ have to, Mike wouldn't be mad if he came back empty hand. They wouldn't be mad but... They'd be disappointed and even though Eddie Kaspbrak would never admit it to them or anyone else... He thrived on other's approval and praise, to be told he did a good job. It was the only thing he'd liked about the miserable job. It wasn't an easy job was his, and appreciation for something anyone could do was worth less than salt in his books. Because in reality, he would never be satisfied with all the advocacy he garnered among Guardians... Nothing was ever enough. That was how the Guardian would've described these last six months in a way, maybe even most of his life. It was like standing in the middle ocean, like gradually wading deeper and deeper until the water filled your mouth and, while you knew the taste would be that of the pungent salt from the sea, in the pit of your stomach in the back of mind and in your heart you felt deceived, like the ocean's water should've been sweet. You grew used to the taste of the sea salt and even grew dependant on it but you'd always yearn for the sweetness, the bliss that would never come.

"What kind of suggestions?" His target questioned mistrustfully, "Are you going to set me up with a prostitute? 'Cause honestly I'm not complaining-"

"I'm trying to make you fall in love, not HIV." Eddie retorted absently, vaguely caught up in previous thoughts.

"Then what?"

Eddie Kaspbrak thought back to Bill Denbrough, to his tough love for his friend and to his easy smile and careful yet enthusiastic manners. It only took a couple moments before he realized he should only use Bill as a later option, try testing the waters first and what he could accomplish.

"Where do you usually find your... Partners?"

"Oh well, the derby of course," Richie drawled out in what Eddie thought was possibly the worst accent he'd ever heard, " _Partner_."

At that moment Eddie Kaspbrak could feel Cupid's eyes, could feel it like bondage around his wrists preventing him from lashing out at his target because that's not what good Guardian's do. No, _good_ Guardian's are fucking saints who have never lived a real day in their life and are sheltered from the world's evil so they remain pure and without resentment. Yeah well, Eddie had seen more than enough of the world and he hadn't liked what he saw so he couldn't think of a reason to act like something he wasn't.

"Where do you find your newest boyfriend or girlfriend?" The brunette spat out exasperatedly, "Your lover, your beau, your sweethearts whatever the  _hell_ you call them."

"Oof, you okay there angel cakes?" Richie asked with mock concern, "Think I saw a little steam coming out of your ears."

_One..._

_Two..._

_Three!_

"Son of a bitch!"

With only one malicious jerk the pain Eddie Kaspbrak had mentally inflicted on his target had fired right back at him.

The pain was... It wasn't human. If he were to try and describe it then... Well, it's not quite the same as the previous thorns. The malicious, violent feeling Eddie had felt wash over him wasn't anything specific, all he knew was that at that moment he felt something snap like a glass shattering somewhere inside his body, the fragments piercing his insides while he could draw no blood. And because it drew more blood it was as if the fragments stuck lodged in his different organs, his heart a particularly delicate spot at the moment. (It wasn't rare for the Guardian to ponder whether he would experience phantom soreness once he was a human again.)

 **Apologize** , a deep voice instructed.

"A- What now?" Eddie whimpered to the sky.

**You're being immature, Eddie and you know it. What's gotten into you? Do you really wish to disappoint me?**

_Ouch._

"Of course not, Mike. I'm sorry."

**It's not me you should be saying sorry to it.**

_Jesus Christ._

"I- I'm sorry about that." The Guardian spewed in his target's general direction.

"Huh?" His target asked bemused, "For what?"

"Nothing." Eddie sighed, "Now can we go sit somewhere and talk about where we'll find you a lover."

_**\---------------------------------** _

 

 

Thankfully his target wasn't a completely unruly child and complied to take him to the campus cafe, although he had a sneaking suspicious the only reason the sweater pant-adorning man agreed was because he wanted coffee. Well, Eddie wouldn't complain if he was getting an easy way out and even if he was a Guardian caffeine wouldn't go unappreciated in his circumstances and company. Hell, alcohol wouldn't be an unwanted coping mechanism considering his company. They sat here across from each other, a relationship-addict-of-a-sort and a Guardian of the Heart, the air between them teetering in the uncertainty of dislike and tolerance. The focus was finding somewhere Richie could meet someone but Eddie had a meagre hope that they wouldn't have to leave this cafe, it was packed of students alike, all of them attending his target's school. 

Opening his mouth Eddie was going to say something to do with this but shut it straight away as he looked at the man in front of him. What was originally a black coffee was being turned into diabetes in a cup, containing three milk caps and... All of the sugar packets that had been on their table. It was in horror and disgust that he stared at Richie Tozier but the bedraggled man didn't seem to understand that as he lifted his bushy eyebrows,

"I can go ask for more sugar if you want some?"

"N- No, I'm fine." He choked out, trying not to think about the mood that amount of sugar would put his target in. 

"Just tea?" Richie inquired, a frown tugging at his chapped lips. " _Old Biddy-_ "

"I'm older than you, so _sure_." Eddie muttered, disinterestedly, "Now I just need you to do one thing."

"Be the handsome devil I am?"

"Close enough." Was the strongest reply Eddie mustered, "Choose someone in this cafe and I'll tell you if you have a chance with them."

"Really?" Came the surprised reply. "Okay then..."

While his target scanned for possible 'suitors,' the Guardian did his own evaluation of the cafe occupants. Eddie tried to combine every factor of someone finding the thing in front of him attractive and honestly he was second-guessing his strategy. Who in this cafe, in the world even, would take one look at this man and think 'Damn, I wanna spend the rest of my life with that.' To give you an idea of what lead him to say this here's a brief description of the man sitting in front of the Guardian; black over-washed sweatpants, a t-shirt that looks like it's survived Richie Tozier's teen-phases, ratty boots caked in grass, bottle-capped glasses, chapped lips and perhaps worst of all would be the state of his hair. Even the first day Eddie had seen him his hair hadn't looked this bad but today he was sporting, proudly at that, the unwashed skunk, minus the white stripe. So if his personality was a problem then... Well, the guy wasn't exactly a catch- 

For most people. Eddie added this because he had struck gold, achieved the impossible. Seated at the furthest corner of the room was a petite girl, long fair locks tied behind her as she peered over study papers, or at least pretended to because in actuality she was stealing peeks at none other than Richie Tozier. With a silent cheer, he turned to his target who was still assessing the room needlessly. 

"Hey, hot shot." He called, clicking his fingers. "We found you a match."

"Course you did." The man replied cockily, "I'm a catch."

"As in you could catch a disease from touching you? I agree."

"Hey!"

Darting off Eddie approached this girl as casually as he could, telling her that his 'friend' was interested in her too and would like to exchange numbers. Surprisingly and most worryingly at that, the girl gave him her number without a second thought, only a pleased grin on her face. She must like the patent, greasy hair, Eddie thought, or maybe she was a Barbra Streisand fan. Upon telling Tozier the good news he merely shrugged, took her number and shimmied on his jacket, ready to leave. At least he was before he turned to face the Guardian warily,

 

"By the way - Just like, some advice," Richie started, eyeing his Guardian, "Maybe try falling in love, then you'll do your job better."

"I-"

The Guardian stopped himself.

"Go home and text Greta, Tozier." Eddie retorted, rolling his eyes coolly. Only he felt anything but cool at that moment.

Richard Tozier had made him question himself, and Eddie couldn't stand that.

 

**__________________________________**

"Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

It was the only reply he fatigued Guardian could muster, he was beaten, mentally physically in every way and it was only the first day really. He couldn't even lift his head off the counter. He could've fallen asleep here and he had no doubt he would've if not for the interruption, although he couldn't call the interruption rude since last time he'd slept at work he'd awoken with a fatal pain in his neck. Maybe he'd be thankful now, Eddie thought to himself, with Richie in his life now maybe he'd be thankful for a pain in anywhere but his ass.

"What is it, Stanley?"

"Well, first of all, your drooling on the counter and it's fucking gross," Stan remarked, his sarcasm was feeble though. "Secondly... Mike wants to see you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof this is a little late! ; This chapter is more than anything a filler but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless as I will soon have more time to write. I'm currently a week away from my last two exams and after that, I have two weeks off so :') Prepare for chapters.


	5. Eddie and Cupid Have a Chat

Fifteen minutes had passed since Eddie arrived outside M- Cupid's office, as the seconds dragged further he couldn't help but pick at his fingernails, a habit his mother had always been disgraced at. At least, in the brunette's younger mind, it was better than actually biting them... Now that was a habit he could view as sickening, what with all the dirt under your nails it was just... _Blegh_. The thought of germs only served to thicken the crawling, creeping feeling in Eddie's skin, the thud of his heart mirroring, in his mind, that of a cartoon character who had just gotten the fright of their life.

It was with a paralysing mix of relief and excruciating agony he took in the voice from behind the door beckoning him to enter. And enter he did albeit stiffly and tugging the corners of his sweatshirt down as if that could hide him away from Mike's cool, professional gaze. Thinking it better to pretend nothing was wrong the brunette sat neatly in front of his boss, eyes never leaving his lap unless to stare at the heart-shaped rug beneath his feet. On a _normal_ day, he would've cracked a joke about how the interior of the office made him want to retch, on a normal day Mike would roll their eyes, letting him see through the all-business facade and see that they found Eddie amusing enough. Nowadays all that was in Mike's eyes when he looked at him was the pity. Pity, disappointment and a flicker of something else.

"Eddie." Mike began thoughtfully.

_Oh hell._

"Yes, Mike?"

"Do you want some advice?"

With those words Eddie's head snapped up, brown eyes scrutinizing Mike's desperately. Whatever god-sent salvation he was looking for there didn't surface as he slumped back into his seat. It was made of the type of red leather you found in those cars from the 50s, the kind of cracked leather young sweethearts reclined against as they made out for the first time. Eddie shivered at the mere thought that a couple of horny teens might've once participated in that exact activity where he was sitting. While disgust was apparent in this thought it was also mingled with a novel relief, Mike wasn't booting him or scolding him they were merely giving him some advice. A typical conversation for the two of them.

"Course." The brunette exhaled, visibly reposed. "What you got?"

"I-" Mike started, discerning his posture before flitting a privately entertained smile. "I agree with what your target said, Kaspbrak. I think it could help you."

Shooting up in mild hysteria Eddie didn't even have to ask what they meant by that, of course, he didn't those words had been recurring like a broken record since he'd gotten home. More so than the words, it was whose mouth they'd came from that truly provoked him. He had never been particularly talented at hiding his emotions so even when he settled down and folded his hands back into his lap he was hardly convincing. 

"R-Really now?" He sought to brush it off, nonchalantly. "And why is that?"

"Eddie..." Mike yielded, sympathy evident in their voice. "Can't you just try? For yourself."

"Mike." The brunette found himself beginning, petty steel in his voice. "It isn't like I've never been in love before... You know that."

"It's been seven years, Eddie." The being softened. "You're twenty-four now."

"What about you, huh?" He deflected. "You're... If you don't mind me saying, literally ancient. When was the last time you fell in love Mike?"

"I don't think that's appropriate-" Mike delayed tiredly. "Don't give me that look, you know this for your benefit."

"My benefit? _My benefit?_ " His speech was near hysterical. "Mike, you've seen my past, right? You know what happened I'm not in any state-"

"To fall in love, yes I know you've said." Mike iterated. "Look, I wouldn't say this unless I was serious."

"It's just..." The mettle was finally percolating out of the Guardian, "I'm barely on stage one with Tozier and it's my last case and I barely have two more weeks left and if I don't succeed-"

"You can't leave," Cupid concluded, dark eyes investigating his features. "I know he's a lot, that's why Tozier was a cold case for so long but... You're the best we've got, Kapbrak."

"I'm not that good, Mike."

He was going from defeated from depressed at that moment, Eddie realized. It wasn't his first time battling with the black dog. His heart was dropping at the probability of his freedom being off the table, of him failing for the first time, of... Eddie Kaspbrak was afraid of many things.

"You know that isn't true." Mike's voice was beginning to give way, "I know this case is encumbering on your brain and because of that I'd be willing to give you additional time."

"I thought you weren't permitted to do that."

"I'm really not but... I'll give you a month." Cupid started, rapping his hands in an uncharacteristically apprehensive manner. "But please just hear me out on your circumstances."

Eddie couldn't bring himself to put up a fight, nor could he promise to comply with what Cupid disclosed unless, of course, it was an oath they made him swear to. So with a passive agreement, he nodded, glimpsing around the room once more. The thought that he would never have to sit here again urging him to actually take in what Mike was saying, forcing him to take it to heart. Deep down Eddie begrudgingly knew his Boss was right but... In his heart, in his very much human, and vulnerable heart, all he could think of was what happened seven years ago... With him. In every valid, just point Mike made a fraction of his opposition came undone, he knew he was mad for praying he could bar all these emotions but... He had endured fine these last few years. Yeah, fine. Believing he was fine was what had landed him in this fucking mess in the first place.

"Okay." The brunette breathed out, shutting his eyes in preparation. "Go on."

"Firstly, I have suggestions for who I think would match your personality," Mike stated. "Love options, if you will."

Eddie cracked an eye open at that. "What now?"

"Contenders for your affection."

"You-You're pimping me out?"

"No! Of course not!" Mike's cheeks became a bright, painted red at that point. "These are all people I genuinely believe you could form a profound, meaningful and romantic connection with."

"Ah, I see," Eddie noted, containing the roll of his eyes as he nodded. Trying not to be repulsed by Mike when they talked like this was.... A burden to say the least but he accomplished it. "Who've you got?"

"Stanely Uris."

A stillness occurred, and not a pleasant one at that.

Eddie stared down his boss with a face that read somewhere within 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me?' and 'are you okay in the head?' Plethra of reasons why this proposal was corrupt flooded the man's head in a matter of seconds, all of which he knew Cupid could catch as their sure stance was faltering.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No?"

" _Stan_?"

"Yes?"

"Why the ever loving-"

"He's one of the only Guardian's you seem to like." Mike interrupted. "You two seem to have a strong bond."

"Because we were both bullied for being gay, Mike." Eddie found himself humming. "Outcasts tend to stick together, even after high school."

"But could it not be romantic-"

He couldn't take more talk of Stan, he loved the guy and was one of the few people he'd met in his adult life who shared and appreciated the dry sense of humour, but he just couldn't. Primarily knowing Stan's feeling for the being in front of him.

"You know Stan likes you, right?"

"That's inappropriate-"

"He isn't bullshitting either."

"You know I can't be involved with Guardians in a more than a business way, Eddie," Mike asserted.

"But you know, right?" Eddie prodded, tirelessly, thankful to talk about anyone else's problems but his own. "I mean it's pretty fucking obvious, he literally spills his coffee whenever you greet him by his first name."

"Yes, I know." His Boss let out through a strained smile. "Are you satisfied with that answer?"

"Not at all." Eddie deadpanned. "But I know pressing you won't work in my favour."

"Ever the smart one." Mike applauded, genuine relief in their voice. "Now next on the list would be.... You don't like women, do you?"

Raising unamused eyebrows, Eddie didn't even warrant the question with a scoff. "You know the answer to that."

"Worth a try," Mike remarked, eyes lifting to his briefly before looking back at the sheet. "How about Bill Denbrough?"

Baffled for a moment Eddie went back through his memories, eventually docking on one from yesterday. Bill Debrough, a friend of Richie Tozier, long clumsy limbs and a genuinely kind smile... Eddie hadn't given him much thought other than in passing, considering him as a contender for his own target.

"Never gave him a second thought," Eddie answered, half-truthfully.

A light seemed to ignite in Mike's eyes at that. "No negative feeling towards him?"

"No?" He couldn't help but snort at that. "Is the criteria for my relationships that low? I have to not hate them?"

"You're a very cynical human." Mike quipped, non-maliciously, "Bill Denbrough it is then."

 _"Wait!"_ The Guardian rejoined. "What exactly do I do? You just want me to fall in love?"

"Essentially." Mike shrugged. "He seems easy enough to fall in love with by the way you described him. He doesn't have to like you back, just find out more about him."

"Jesus." Eddie groaned woefully, "You're not making me go under an oath for this, are you?"

"Not right now." His Boss revised. "It's just to test the waters, of your polar heart."

Ignoring the digs the short Guardian pondered something else over, "Can I ask who else was on the contender list?"

"Oh."

" _Oh?_ "

"You're not going to like it."

"Mike, who was it?"

"Ah."

 _"Mike!_ "

"Richie Tozier."

Eddie Kaspbrak sat in muteness for a couple seconds, in fact, it could've been a lifetime before he seized just what Mike had said and let it absolve. He couldn't even work up the rage to be enraged at Mike, who mind you was currently refusing to look at him. No, all Eddie could feel was revulsion, plain and simple. The bile in his throat attesting to this.

"Why," Eddie commenced, forcing the bile down his own throat, shivering. "Him? Of all the people in the world?"

"It was a last resort." Mike amended. "Of course I didn't expect you to fall in love with him, we'll be lucky if things work out with the Denbrough kid. I only mentioned Tozier as an option because... Well, if he fell in love with you your case would be over."

Considering what Mike said all Eddie could really bring himself to do was laugh.

"Really don't think that plan would have worked out." The Guardian chortled, "I think I get on his nerves almost as much as he gets on mine."

"Really?" Cupid questioned keenly, "From where I stand it seems he's quite keen on teasing you."

"Ah yes," Eddie deadpanned sardonically, "The whole 'bullying means boys like you' fad?"

"Exactly!" Mike emitted.

Narrowing his eyes somewhat Eddie quivered at that type of thing, he'd experienced it himself. Imagine having to go home and tell your Mother all the girls just _pretended_ to hate him, they actually really liked him and Eddie _liked_ them back.... When the next day you'd go back to school and endure girls, along with their burly boyfriends shouting slurs left to right and centre. To put up with the closeted boys who treated him like shit as soon as they were in public to-

"That's a flawed and damaging fad." Eddie retorted, nipping his hands scarcely. "I wouldn't go basing relationships on teasing if I were you, Boss."

Picking up on the shift of mood Mike merely nodded understandably, muttering a sincere apology, "Do you remember what we talked about?"

"Yeah, yeah." Eddie found himself mumbling. "Denbrough isn't my top priority though, I'm still focused on solving the damn _nut_ case that is Tozier."

"Of course, although I think you'll find those two tasks will coincide." Mike chirped, cheerily, waving him off as he stepped outside.

Departing the office Eddie Kapbrak was a mix of resolution. For now, he was going to neglect the whole 'fall in love' shit and focus on Richie and his relationship with Greta. If that didn't work out then he'd find someone new, more stable. So with these goals in mind, the short-statured Guardian drifted off to his dorm, Stan already fast asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof uh, guess who wrote this when she should've been studying, this girl that's right. Thankfully after Wednesday, that's me free of exams! And with freedom comes, well, new chapters for you guys.
> 
> I actually procrastinated so hard I have the next chapter ready too tho hfisodhfioeoew, so look forward to that sometime in the next week.


	6. Glimpses of An Old Life

  
_______________________________________________

  
It wasn't of his own accord Eddie Kaspbrak woke up from, what for the first time in years was, a reasonably sound sleep. It was also not his choice to abruptly be transported from the tranquil dormitory to the cold, wooden floor of Richie Tozier's apartment. In summary, Eddie Kaspbrak was not in control of his own life that could've-been-fine Tuesday afternoon.

"Holy _shit_ it worked."

"You think?" Eddie grunted as lifted himself up, wings disheveling at the sudden wake-up-call.

Apparently, even his flat tone didn't spur Richie as he still wore that ridiculous grin, eyes bright and full of immature wonder. With a scrutinizing look, Eddie took in his target sporting his faded boxers, stained Metallica shirt and the thick-rimmed glasses skewed across his face. Opening his mouth to make a scornful remark the Guardian caught his target assessing him in the exact way he had a moment before.

"Wake you up, did I?" His target asked in a sing-song voice, eyes darting to his pyjamas. "Sorry."

"As a matter of fact, you did." Eddie shot back, resisting the urge to give in and rub the sleep out of his eyes. "Any good reason?"

There was a slight pause.

"Greta isn't an option anymore."

" _What_?"

"We didn't really uh, click."

"What the ever-loving fuck did you do?"

"Hey! Why is it automatically my fault?"

"It's always your fault!"

"Well... Fuck you too."

The shouting had settled, Richie's sulky remark had cooled the entire place and as much as his obtuse language and behaviour plagued him Eddie was grateful for the stillness. Both of their chests were heaving as they sat at Richie's kitchen table, also known as perhaps the only clean surface in the entire apartment, and stared each other down wordlessly. Breaking his petulant gaze Eddie ran his hands through the mess of his own hair, smoothing it down as much as he could before clearing his throat.

"It wasn't like I wanted it to end badly," Richie spoke first. "Honestly I just... I didn't think it was serious."

"Do you..." Eddie murmured. "Do you really want to fall in love?"

"That's a pretty loaded question." The man retorted, although there was a bare minimum of humour there. "Do I want kids? Not really, they hate me and I'm only twenty-two. Do I want to get married? God no, again I'm still young and have a lifetime of boning hot people in front of me."

"Jesus." The brunette groaned.

"But I mean-" Richie countered. "Finding someone who I want to screw all the time as like an everyday thing doesn't sound terrible."

At that Eddie looked up, surveying his target's face with a renewed sense of confidence. "And love?"

"Eh sure." He shrugged. "Being in love isn't _that_ bad."

It was with that statement Eddie felt something hit him, in the file, it was mentioned briefly in passing that Richie had fallen in love a 'couple' times although in no explicit detail, which he was thankful for at the time. Now though... He could've benefitted from knowing what kind of people Richie Tozier fell in love with because right now all he saw in front of him was a greasy, self and sex-obsessed man who didn't' even know how to look after himself. He was everything his Mother had warned him to never be life, uninspired and without purpose. He had a flair for the dramatic and obviously loved attention, he paid zero consideration to how he was dressed and thrived on those who dropped like flies at his feet, like a Garbage King, drawing all the wrong kinds of notice.

Today was another day, however, and that was what Eddie was trying to tell himself as he devised a new plane to find the love of his target's life. Step one was a little obvious... The guy needed to clean himself up. Although the greasy-nerd-type had worked in the campus cafe Eddie knew the only way they'd find him a real partner is if he at least looked presentable. The Guardian really... Didn't have much to work with but he'd do the best he could.

"Go shower." The brunette instructed the other, "We're trying again."

"So soon?" Richie pouted. "But alas by heart still belongs to the fair maiden Greta Klein-"

"Learnt her second name? That's progress." Eddie mock commended. "For you."

"Screw you, Mr Guardian!" The man hollered as he ran to the bathroom, leaving the door flung wide open.

Stiffly rolling his eyes Eddie went to stand near the kitchen counter, trying to form a strategy for today- Although it did prove rather challenging when you had to listen to a twenty-two-year-old who thought they were Mariah Carey singing in the shower. Humming along to himself subconsciously the Guardian figured it couldn't hurt to check up on Stan since he obviously had so much time on his hands. The phone rang once, twice-

"Hello?"

"Stan? You okay?"

"Eddie! I'm great, okay no, that was a lie... The cafe's busy as fuck today and the new guy is a clumsy shit."

"New guy?"

"Oh, forgot to tell you. Mike said you needed to focus all your chi or whatever on the case and suggested I find someone else to fill in."

"Stan, you could've just you know, asked me to come in."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Then tomorrow?" It was very rare for Stan to break out of his casual, careful voice but there was a desperate edge to that request. "Afternoon shift?"

"Eddie?"

The phone slipped from Eddie Kaspbrak's hands like sand, hitting the hardwood floor, thankfully, without so much as a scratch. However, the Guardian's shoulders shot up at his name from a foreign mouth, turning around stiffly he provided an almost-naked Richie Tozier with a murderous scowl.

"Don't ever do that again." Eddie seethed. "I nearly had a damn panic attack."

"Oh, my bad." Richie fluttered dramatically, hitching his towel to his chest and batting his eyes like a silent-movie actress. "I forget the effect I have on men."

"It's not that." The Guardian dismissed, steadying himself on the table, "I just forgot I told you my name, that's it."

"Does something happen if a human says your name?" He pressed excitedly, seeming to forget his womanly act, letting the towel slide to his waist. "Does it make you a little more human? Is it like a secret-alien turn on? Does it-"

"No, it's just a name you nerd." Eddie retorted, looking up at the man sceptically. "Now that we've solved your conspiracy theories we need to establish what you're wearing out when you go to look for your date."

"I was just planning on going to a bar." The damp-haired man shrugged. "Do I need to look a certain way?"

Staring Richie down Eddie couldn't help but feel triumphant when the man shrunk away from his gaze slightly, even if he was on the shorter spectrum his eyes worked wonders when getting a message across.

"Are you really telling me you got laid at a bar looking the way you usually do?" The brunette spluttered, not leaving room for any comment. "No, I'm going to raid your room for something... Moderately appealing and come back."

Striding past the dumb-struck man Eddie mentally adjusted himself for the sights and scents that would assail him when he entered and... Even that wasn't enough. It was as if a twelve-year-old boy and middle-aged woman simultaneously lived inside Richie Tozier's apartment, or maybe his body. In one corner was a neat stack of vinyl records in pristine condition whereas in the opposing corner... Layers of unwashed clothes and empty crisp packets. Anywhere he stepped there was a new lewd surprise waiting so Eddie figured it best to float over to the closet which, thankfully, did have the redeeming point of all the clothing being on hangers.

After what seemed like a lifetime the Guardian emerged from the clutter to the sitting room, bundles of clothing in his firm arms. Amongst this disarray was a pair of skinny jeans, a genuine vintage leather jacket, that Eddie could only assume he'd thrifted, and a pair of converses that miraculously hadn't been callously scuffed up. The initial plan had been to dress Richie in whatever dress-shirt he could spot, however, this hunt was shortly ceased as he owned no such thing, and so he could only trust that this would do. Most people, Eddie understood, liked people like Richie because they weren't conventionally attractive.... Although the Guardian struggled to find even unconventional qualities worth noting in his target.

"We've wasted basically all of the afternoons away." Eddie heaved, reaping the consequences of trying to pull too many items out of the closet at a time. "And I need to get changed into something that isn't pyjamas so don't, seriously don't drag me here unless it's important."

Without waiting for a response the Guardian flew out of the apartment, on his way to find clothes fitting for where he'd be dragged tonight. On second thought, he reviewed hastily, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Looking after drunk Richie Tozier would certainly have its challenges as would getting him home afterwards but it had been a while, Eddie caught, since he'd gone out for a drink... Or even gone out. His entire life had been revolving around the case as of late and it was draining him, not physically (although at times it did,) but mentally too and this night... Sure, it was about finding Richie a lover but he didn't think it a crime to try and enjoy himself.

So, with that in mind, the Guardian rifled through his wardrobe precisely, making faces of concern at older clothes he'd never gotten the chance to throw out. It was as he reached the end of the hangers Eddie paused, standing out starkly from the rest was a washed-out Tori Amos shirt and... It wasn't his. Taking it out hesitantly he only grew more confused, it was two sizes too big for him but... It was actually his. He couldn't remember where he'd gotten it from or why it was so oversized but he felt that when he touched the fabric, at some point in his life he wore the shirt more than anything, he had lived in it.

He wanted to stand there and ponder for another hour but he knew that was ridiculous so he neatly folded it back up, tucking it into the inner compartment as he continued his quest for another combination. After longer than he cared to admit Eddie resurfaced from half his body being inside his wardrobe and gave it an approving nod, pulling the pyjama pants off to slide into a pair of non-faded, snug three-quarter-length shorts, snagging the loose, long jumper from the bed he shrugged it on. Or, at least he tried to before he was zapped from the ample air of his apartment to, yet again, the hardwood floor of Richie Tozier's. Thankfully crash-landing on his feet, Eddie pulled the jumper all the way down.

"Wow." Richie audibly noted. "You look... Kinda gay."

Gawking right back at his target the Guardian could only shake his head.

"Ah yes, words from a mouth that's trying to get dick." The brunette drawled sarcastically. "I have to try and blend in you know."

"Sure it's not just for me?"

"Ew."

He could practically feel his old literature-devotee of a friend Ben Hanscom twitch at the limited vocabulary. Man, he hadn't seen him in years... In his mind Eddie hadn't seen many people in years, he would never worry his Mother over it but the truth was Eddie remembered little of high school, the bullying sure that's the kind of stuff that stuck but... He couldn't name one person he'd been familiar with despite being certain he was close with some. Maybe he should see a doctor...

"Bill's meeting us there." Richie quipped. "We should get going... Before all the good dick is gone."

With an involuntary roll of his eyes, Eddie let his target walk in front of him, at least semi-trusting him to lead the way to whatever sketchy, seedy bar he'd have to be in. Reconsidering this the Guardian prayed the bar would at least have a clean toilet, he knew Richie wouldn't care but surely his friend Bill wouldn't drink somewhere like that. His faith was restored when he saw Bill Denbrough himself around the corner, he was wearing his usual flannel and jeans and the same easy-going, charismatic smile.

"Eddie, right?" The flannel-clad man checked, sticking out his hand once again. He seemed quite the hand-shake enthusiast. "Have to say didn't expect you to want to come to a bar like this."

"Wait, what?" The Guardian interrogated, studying the sign and looking through the window curiously. "Oh... It's a gay bar?"

"Ye-Yeah." Bill stuttered at the same time Richie laughed,

"No."

Looking between the two Eddie crossed his arms. "Which is it?"

"It was supposed to be a gay bar." Richie corrected. "Nowadays it's filled with barely-legal women and straight men... But Bill seems to always fall for the straights."

"N-No I don't!" The other man protested.

"Does it matter? Let's just get inside, it's fucking freezing." Eddie couldn't help but grunt. "Talk about your shit tastes in men later."

Upon entering the bar the whiff of alcohol was imminent but not unpleasant and it was with unrelenting relief the Guardian noticed a 'no-smoking' sign on the door. Overall, after surveying the room he decided it wasn't the worse place to be. There were no middle-aged men crowded at the car to catch a glimpse of a tiny television, nor was there blaring loud music, yet. It was because this bar was so agreeable Eddie had the sinking feeling the three of them would be going to more than one bar tonight... Which meant there was a time bomb in finding Richie a partner. Thankfully the bar's past-target-market was still alive as Eddie could see a couple male contenders. In the whole bar, there were six women, four of them in a relationship with each other.

It was strangely peaceful in the little bar and Eddie thought he could maybe, by some miracle, have the quiet night he planned... That was before he saw Richie Tozier striding up to the bar and ordering an unhuman variety of drinks. It was going to be a long night.

___________________________________________________________

"I just don't know." Bill Denbrough sighed. "Do you believe in true love, Eddie?"

In the last two hours, the trio had spent at the charming little bar Eddie Kaspbrak had learnt a great deal about Bill. Number one would be that he prioritized family over anything, whether it be found-family or blood related he said it was the greatest gift we got on this earth. Secondly, was that he was an avid reader and writer although he admitted rather grudgingly that he used to write self-insert main characters because _'God, why can't I be a hero for once?'_ However, if there was one thing the guy could talk about for hours then it wasn't writing, no Bill Denbrough seemed to love talking about love and as much as Eddie felt the urge to smash his glass of bourbon to his forehead at some points of this topic he didn't. Even when Bill told tales of woe featuring his ex-girlfriends and boyfriends Eddie didn't show annoyance. Especially since when having alcohol in him Bill could switch topics easily in fact, at some point in his rants he paused at the sound of Whitney Housten playing. With dread, the Guardian prayed he wouldn't sing but alas... God had it in for Eddie Kaspbrak as his new friend was belting like his life depended on it.

Now to the question he'd just asked...

"I-"

"Edssss!" A keen, and familiar voice hollered.

As the long limbs from the man that shout came from encircled him Eddie Kaspbrak went stiff for a minute. With unprecedented strength he pushed the man off and spun on him, waving his finger dangerously,

"Stop calling me that!" The Guardian protested wildly, "You know I hate it-"

That was when the brunette paused. Where had that come from? Never in the time he'd known Richie Tozier, spare a minutes ago, had he called him by anything resembling a nickname. The guy could barely remember his name on a good day. And yet...

"Just ignore Richie when he's druh-drunk." Bill stuttered, frowning, "He's been acting weird for a while now anyway."

Taking his word for it Eddie tried to shake off the strange familiarity he felt in that moment, and eventually he did as he downed another glass to focus on his new friend who he noticed was getting more and more talkative the more he drank. It was almost like playing twenty-one questions and if he was being honest, he enjoyed it. Provided it wasn't mushy talk about love or relationships Eddie was becoming partial to the other man's company.

The two's conversation flowed easily, at least it did until,

"I feel weird-"

With unexpected speed Bill Denbrough made a dart for the door, hand clamped over his mouth in preparation. A pang of sympathy struck Eddie's heart as he moved the follow his new friend to the front of the bar where, undoubtedly, he perched against the war with two slim fingers pressed to his mouth in fear of his drinks coming back up.

Noticing him Bill simply gave a weak smile.

"Have you seen Richie?" He wavered. "Goddamn it, we have a class tomorrow."

Looking back through the bar's door carefully, seeing nothing the Guardian shook his head. "No."

"He's probably gone home with some poor guy." Bill laughed weakly, his jaw chattery through having to stay outside. "I swear I'm not usually a light-weight... I guess some repressed memories came up."

With a peek at the man's desperate smile, Eddie couldn't help but return the smile, angling himself at the same level as the other as they sat in a comfortable silence, fingers barely brushing at their sides as they talked and talked, The kept this up until Bill let out a stiff yawn and waved him off as he stumbled to get a cab, telling him he was glad he'd met the Guardian and giving one last smile, although by this point it was strained. 

  
As he walked home Eddie had only three things on his mind; Bill Denbrough, a Tori Amos shirt and sleep.


	7. New Friends and Old Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case ya'll haven't noticed... I've added names to all the chapter! I got a bit bored of just seeing the same thing again and again so... I figured why not!

Waking up later in the afternoon Eddie allowed himself a sigh of contentment, he was in his own apartment and he'd gotten more than enough sleep. It wasn't as if he'd completely forgotten about Richie Tozier, he doubted anyone was capable of that, but whatever all-encompassing stress the man placed on his brain certainly hadn't kicked in yet. So the Guardian sat up and took in the sunlight from his bedroom window, preening in the warmth. Given last nights drinking shenanigans, Eddie had no doubt he had more than a couple hours to himself before his target woke up, hopefully not to crawl out of his new lover's bed, and bothered him. Glimpsing at the clock he closed his eyes before jolting back up a second later, he'd promised Stan he'd come in for the afternoon shift. Shit.

Tugging on the first pair of jeans he spotted, pulling a plain white t-shirt over his head, shrugging on whatever jacket was at on the couch, Eddie darted out the door, forgetting about being a Guardian as his wings were still stiffly tied back, pleading to be freed if only for a second. After about seven minutes of his feet pounding relentlessly against the pavement, the heat on the sidewalk scorching through his thin tennis shoes, Eddie came to a pause outside the coffee shop as he took a couple seconds to calm his breathing down. He'd always been a good runner but with the blistering weather and the early-morning surprise to his body, he was taking shuddering breaths as he flattened his hair and re-tied his laces. Finally pushing through the glass door, taking in the familiar wind-chimes song he was met with hands grabbing his shoulders and pulling him to the storeroom.

"Thank _fuck!_ " The voice relented, the exasperation also familiar to the Guardian. "I was ready to kill the new kid and then myself."

Eddie tried to laugh at his friend's antics but... They had been close friends for a while and he knew that underneath all of Stan's self-deprecating jokes there was sincerity. Shaking off those morbid thoughts as best as he could he shot his friend a sheepish smile as he darted away from him to grab an apron from the hooks, lazily doing so because despite his friend's stressing the place wasn't terribly busy today.

"I told you I'd cover today, didn't I?" Eddie countered, tying the peach-colored apron around his waist, he'd always have to bind twice to make it stay. "I just slept in."

"Yeah." Stan scoffed, although he looked at him the next second with vague concern. "Are you doing okay though? You look like you've lost weight."

Letting his own eyes follow his friend's gaze Eddie realized despite tying the apron twice it was still loose around him. Had he lost weight? Patting himself the Guardian didn't feel much difference, he still had a solid enough shape, toned where he needed to be. Looking back to his friend's worried look he merely shook his head and smiled, tying it around his waist once more.

"Just stress." The shorter of the two dismissed. "You look pretty pale yourself."

"No wonder," Stan uttered gravely, shrugging on his coat. "Come on, I'll introduce you to this guy before I leave."

Following the head of waves to the counter, he leaned on it with, what Eddie thought, was fatal fatigue. Stan looked shit, plain and simple and he knew it wasn't all to do with the new kid being a little clumsy, he'd handled plenty part-timers in the past. The new guy was standing with his back to them, apron tied tight as could be, lanky limbs sporting faded Levi's and a checkered shirt down to his waist Eddie almost found him familiar.

"Hey, tall ass," Stan called, rapping his knuckles from the other side of the counter. "Here's your other co-worker, he's going to guide you from here on out."

Watching the new guy swivel on his heel Eddie was met with the sight of none other than Bill Denbrough. Granted he was now wearing the very peachy apron as him but it was still the same neat tufts of hair, the same awkward gangly limbs and pleasant smile. The exact Bill he'd seen just last night singing his heart out to Whitney Housten's greatest hits, and puking his guts up.

"Hi, I'm Eddie." The Guardian shrugged off, shooting a look at Stan so Bill would get it. "Hope I enjoy working with you."

"Bill Denbrough." The other returned coyly, silently laughing at the acting, turning to Stan to see if he noticed, he didn't. "Is he in charge of me now?"

"I'll give you a raise if you take care of him every shift." Stan directed to the shorter of the two. "And yes, Eddie's an angel, I'm sure he'll do amazing."

Without another word Stan Uris left the two, all the tension falling from his shoulders as he heard the wind chimes sound upon his exit. He loved this cafe, Eddie knew, but taking care of the place on top of doing Cupid's paperwork and managing his crush on the being? It was stressful for sure. The Guardian couldn't help but admire his friend for that because while he complained to Eddie in disgruntled muttering to anyone else he'd seem the most placid, unbothered person on earth. He didn't believe in making his problem's other peoples, and vice versa.

Letting Bill go behind the register Eddie took the cafe's few occupants orders, most of them regular college kids. As the place was so dead it gave the Guardian a chance to relax and talk to Bill Denbrough, something that really made his day off from Richie-watching all the more enjoyable. The two had laid-back chitter chatter about all sorts of things, of how the taller of the two's classes were going, to the previous night and what type of music they both liked. However, as pleasant as the conversation was the Guardian's mind still back-tracked into work mode, seeing an opportunity to find out more about his target. 

"How'd you get to be friends with Richie, anyway?" The brunette asked, leaning across the counter. "You seem... Nice."

"Honestly the Richie you're getting to know is pretty mild compared to the old one," Bill replied, smiling at his last comment. "But we've been friends still the beginning, us and two others."

"And you never wanted to... Smash his face in with a brick?" Eddie couldn't help but inquire, genuine curiosity and research here. "Ever?"

"Of course I did." The other snorted. "That's part of being friends with him." 

"Then we must be the best of friends." He muttered under his breath. "Have you guys never fallen out?"

"Only one or twice," Bill replied, eyes lowering as he said this. "It was between him and Bev though."

"Bev?" The Guardian repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a language he'd forgotten how to speak. 

"One of our best friends." Was the answer, a pause followed it before an awkward chuckle. "They dated for a while but... God, I can't remember his name but there was this guy Richie was really in love with like wanted to be together for-forever kind of shit and... He just wasn't over him when Bev and 'im dated."

"Oh," Eddie uttered, not knowing what else to say as his brain struggled to piece together this new information.

"I don't think either of them really loved each other, like in the way they wanted to at the t-time." Bill stuttered, looking back up at him. "But since they're close as shit it didn't change anything, that part."

The Guardian was silent for a while, well aware of his new friend's eyes on him he couldn't help but run through the information he'd obtained with that story. Although it wasn't concrete at the moment he felt like it could help him later in the case, and in finding someone for his target. 

"Hmm."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you like Richie or something?"

"What? Oh, fuck no." The Guardian retorted, with genuine disgust surprising to Bill. "I'm just asking questions because I haven't seen him in a while... You know being distant cousins and all that."

"Oh sh-shit, I totally forgot!" Bill shouted, causing a few customers to turn heads. "Sorry, I completely forgot about that but, is there anyone you do like right now?"

"Ha, no not at all," Eddie replied, secretly hiding the grimace on his face at that question. The same way he did when anyone asked. 

"Married to your job, huh?" Bill cracked good-naturedly, taking a breath before thoughtfully observing him. "Wasn't there ever anything you really wanted to do? Like a hobby, you dreamed as a career?"

Eddie Kaspbrak took a minute to answer this question, as it required a minute of his time to search through his memories and what little he held onto from high school to come to a conclusion. He did have a hobby although it was one he hadn't thought about in a while, eventually, memories flooded back to him. Memories of him coming home and his Mother going berserk over the grease on his shirt, of a  wise-cracking boy, whose face was fuzzy in his head, pouring coffee on him in an attempt to hide said grease. But just like that, the memories vanished in an instant as he was pulled back to reality. 

"I wanted to be a mechanic." He answered truthfully, taking in the other's reaction carefully. "And you want to be a writer, don't you?"

"More than anything." Bill murmured wistfully. "But a mechanic? It... Suits you, weirdly enough. How come you never pursued it?"

"Didn't want to put my Mother in an early grave." The Guardian shrugged, it was a wonder she hadn't yet with him working in a coffee shop... Then again she was under the impression he was still in a University. 

"That's sweet." His new friend commented, frowning at whatever afterthought he had. "But kind of sad as well... Did you always do what she wanted?"

"Basically." The brunette murmured back. "But it's not important, your parents must've been great."

At his last sentence, Bill launched into a full-on speech about how his parents were hardly peachy, although he stopped when talking about his younger brother who he promised Eddie he'd tell him more about once they knew each other better. The two of them carried on like this until closing time, arguing over who had worse parents. Even as they untied the aprons Bill relented with his reasoning, bringing up his friend 'Bev,' and saying she could beat us all in the 'Worst Parents Competiton,' This seemed to spur him on as the other paused when putting his jacket on,

"Hey, I'm hanging out with a friend later, Bev- The one I mentioned." Bill started, a small smile tugging at his mouth. "It's nothing dodgy, which is probably why Richie doesn't want to come but-"

 "Sure." Eddie found himself interrupting hesitantly. "I'd really like to."

"She'll love you." The taller man beamed, waving slightly as he turned to walk his way home. "I promise you."

Sighing in a strange state of bliss Eddie Kaspbrak started his own way home, on feet this time. There was something about that guy that made him feel as if he was a teenager again, something that reminded him so profoundly of his childhood and all the good in it that made up for the bad. Bill Denbrough was just that kind of person. Even as the rain started to gently sprinkle him the Guardian didn't mind, as if he was in a bubble, something he could make happen if he so wished, and his happiness seemed to repel the rain. Halfway to his own apartment he couldn't help but pause as he passed Richie Tozier's, peering into the room mentally there was a missed beat of his heart because for a second he couldn't see anything. The entire room was dark except for the light of a TV which as he focused more on, didn't even hold Richie Tozier's attention as he sat on his couch, staring dejectedly into space. If the Guardian was unsure whether to enter before he knew he had to now, even if his only job was to find the guy love... He wouldn't have a job if something happened to him. 

So with practiced precision, the Guardian lifted himself to the window's level and inaudibly unlocked the hook, stepping into the apartment without so much as a string of curses of glance. Taking advantage of his current invisibility Eddie studied Richie's face, blank of any real conviction and emotion... It didn't look like the same guy he'd met two weeks ago, and it certainly didn't look like the guy Bill had described to him today. Opening and closing his mouth a few times he decided it best to just sit beside the man, leaving a body's space in between them while saying nothing. The silence continued for another five minutes before the curly-haired man took in a shallow breathe. 

"Sorry."

Huh? Glancing at his target confusedly he couldn't help but ask. "For what?"

"I fucked up again."

_Oh._

On any other day, Eddie would've said something, would've made some snide remark or express some kind of exasperation or impatience. But today... He didn't say anything, at least not straight away as he mulled over what Richie had just said... He had fucked up whatever he'd had going with the guy from the bar. Despite his facial expression never changing the smile admission of 'I fucked up,' carried a severe weight that the Guardian couldn't understand. There were so many mistranslations in that three-worded reply that it was clear his 'fucking up' his relationship wasn't the only thing weighing on his mind. 

"It's fine."

And it was for whatever reason. 

"You know." Richie started, taking a swig from a bottle he hadn't even noticed. "I don't intentionally fuck things up, it's just been this way since I reached twenty, something changed."

Passing the bottle over to him Eddie paused, looking back to the diminutive eyes glancing back at him glassily. He took it, conspicuously wiping the bottle with his sleeve which, of course, captured the other man's attention but he merely shook his head. 

"Nothing personal." The Guardian felt the need to add after taking a gulp. "Germophobe of a sort." 

Another elongated hush passed between them and as much as Eddie thought he'd enjoy the other man cooling down it didn't feel right... Like how Bill must've felt when Richie first quieted down. Thinking back to the story his friend had told him the brunette peeped to and from the man beside him, trying to imagine what this other, turbulent Richie had been like. One who had been friends with Bill Denbrough since they were kids, who probably corrected teachers and gave his friends obnoxious pet names... He'd seen glimpses of that but it wasn't the same. Not at all. It was if his personality and passion had been diluted and from the way Bill made it sound it was all because of this guy he'd once loved. And although he'd never say it out loud Eddie saw the glimmer of similarity between the two of them at that moment, two men scarred from the love of their youth.

"You don't have to say anything." The Guardian started cautiously. "I won't ask you anything you don't want to answer."

Raising his head Richie's eyes flicked skeptically. "Will you stay a little bit? I know I'm not the most appealing company in this state but... I don't trust myself when I drink alone."

Surprising himself the Guardian himself nodded, slouching further against the couch in confirmation. Eyes going back to the screen without ever truly focusing, Richie's eyes still like glass, his lips quivering nervously and his hands pressed together as if he was salvaging his peace while it all slipped through his fingers like sand. He said nothing when his target's head fell into his hands, or when his shoulder's started shaking and wetness spilled onto his palms, or when a string of curses followed the bout. Eddie Kaspbrak was silent because that's all he could be in that moment, and that was all Richie needed then. Somehow in his bones, Eddie knew this was the only way to comfort him as if he'd done it a million times over.

The sniffling stopped.

So they sat like that, a pillow between them like a barrier yet closer than they'd ever been in the two weeks of knowing each other, watching old movies on a too-expensive-for-the-apartment TV screen. With their eyes hazing over every so often the two men were silent, a mutual respect that had never been there before as the Guardian's head lulled exhaustedly. Eddie knew he should be getting back to his dorms at Mike's but his limbs refused to move, sleep slowly but surely getting to him as he vaguely heard the nervous habit of clasping and unclasping hands. Before his brain fuzzed over completely Eddie could hear a whisper in the tiniest voice,  

"Thank you."

 

 


	8. Movie Nights and Old Friends

Eddie didn't know what woke him up first that afternoon; the frightful hacking and spluttering of the man beside him, the sunlight streaming through the windows or, maybe it was the fact he'd barely slept at all. He was choosing to believe it was all three combined as he observed Richie Tozier, swallowing whatever phlegm had arisen, in vague disgust. As much as he itched to reprimand the gross behaviour the Guardian couldn't bring himself to do it as he thought of last night and all that had conspired, the crying, the soundless comfort and the hushed gratitude. It had all softened his reaction to the man. Did he particularly like Richie Tozier? Not really, but did he feel sorry for him? Undeniably and that was what made him reflect before speaking. The side he'd seen of Tozier last night had made him realize he barely knew anything about him other than what he'd read in the file Mike gave him, he'd just been going off of his own assumptions which, evidently, weren't getting him anywhere. It was decided then and there that Eddie was going to have to make more of an effort with this man, and it would start with actually talking to him and knowing more about him. 

Realizing he most likely wouldn't wake up in the next hour Eddie decided to go into the cafe since he had no doubt that either Stan or Bill would appreciate the help. Glancing back at the sleeping figure the Guardian couldn't help but bite his lip anxiously, it was silly but for half a second her considered leaving a note detailing why he was gone. It was with a vicious shake of the head that he reprimanded himself for thinking of, Richie Tozier wasn't a child nor was he his sick wife, there was no reason for him to know where he was going. This was all true but as he stepped towards the door a low whisper escaped his mouth,

"I'll see you in a couple hours."

**_____________________________________**

 

Wandering into the cafe the Guardian was puzzled to see the chairs had been stacked up already. Peeping at the clock only reaffirmed this confusion as it was only three in the afternoon and yet, despite the dimmed light, a rattling could be heard in the storage room so with spooked caution Eddie tiptoed to the back as the noise grew louder. Walking through the storage door tense, shoulders raised and ready to shield himself he stifled a laugh when he saw none other than Bill Denbrough struggling to remove a sweater and knocking over paint tins in the process. Deciding it best not to give the poor guy a damn heart attack the brunette quietly coughed.

"Bill?"

"Eh-Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't see."

Shaking his head he closed the gap between the two of them and helped untangle the sweater, bemused at the red cheeks that met him and the sheepishly endearing smile that arose at the eye contact. The two moved to the front of the cafe, declining against the counter and chatting as Bill finished closing up which he was doing, he explained, because the place was dead and even though he was sure of this there was a hurried addition of ' _please don't tell Stan.'_ Although they were talking normally and friendly, there was a question on the tip of Bill's tongue that Eddie guessed. 

"Sorry for not getting back to you about meeting up," Eddie confessed, wincing at the reason why he hadn't. "Went to see Richie and he wasn't in the best mood so I stayed in keeping an eye on him."

"Keep an eye on him?" Bill cracked amusedly, forgetting about the old plans. "You sound like a Mother, it's perfect. Ben sort of acts like a big brother to Rich half the time, always advising him on his bad habits."

"So I've popped out two kids?" He played along. grimacing slightly. "God, no wonder I'm so out of shape."

At this retort, Bill burst into a fit of laughing, something he did pretty often if he was being honest but... It was nice. It never felt too forced or like he just ignorantly laughed at anything. It was the type of laugh you'd never get tired of hearing and Eddie felt a little high on the sound of it at that moment as it reminded him, somewhat, of the kind of laughs you'd have as a kid. The pure, unadulterated joy that came with hanging out and Bill Denbrough was reminiscent of that, and it was amazing. Stepping out and locking the door, the faint farewell of windchimes echoing, the two slowly walked towards Richie's apartment and Bill's dorm. 

"Will you still be there later on tonight?" Bill urged hands lightly holding his bike in place. "It'd be great if you are."

"Huh?" The Guardian sounded, glancing up at the other. "What's tonight?"

"It's movie night." The plaid-wearing man replied, eyebrows raising. "You didn't know?"

"He hadn't even woken up yet." Eddie riposted. "But I... I guess I will be there."

"Great!" Was the content reply, but as he opened his mouth to continue a phone rang. 

Picking it up Bill held it away from his face after a second. 

"That you Bev?"

"Who else is saved as Bev on your phone?"

Eddie could hear the other voice perfectly fine as it carried rather well.

"What's up?"

"Whereabouts are you right now?"

"Just passing Nino's."

"Shit, really? Hang on."

The line off suddenly and the two men looked at each other in confusion.

"Hey, asshole!"

Turning surprised Eddie was met by the sight of a young woman, conceivably in her mid-twenties, sprinting towards them as her peach-coloured frock oscillated above her knees with the wind. After a minute the woman stopped in front of them, gasping as she let her head of long red hair hang between her legs, resting her forearms on her knees before rising, shining a singularly charming smile at the two of them. Taking a second to truly see her the first thing Eddie took note of was the dozens of freckles splattered across her scrunched up face which, compared to his own, were striking and stark against her pale skin. 

"What's go-going on?" Bill asked her, not phased by the impromptu appearance. "Is something wrong?"

" _Oh yeah,_ " Bev returned, her voice fresh and sarcastic. "It's movie night and we don't have any snacks."

"But we're at Richie's tonight." The other frowned.

"And you really think he has anything in his fridge besides expired milk?" The woman retorted, raising a fair eyebrow.

"He doesn't." Eddie found himself joining, "I can attest to that."

Turning to him the smile that took over her face was one exuding excitement. "Eddie, right? Bill was talking about you, a lot, a couple days ago. Beverly Marsh, but mostly Bev."

"Eddie Kaspbrak?" The Guardian offered, reciprocating the smile. "Mostly Eddie."

The three chatted for a couple more minutes before Bill and Bev divided off to bulk-buy snacks for tonight although an offer didn't go missing. 

"You sure you don't wanna come?" Bev suggested.

"Sadly, I have to go check if he's actually woken up." He returned, a smile of vague apology crossing his lips.

"Babysitting him already?" She cracked, walking backwards to see him. "It's like you've been with us forever."

Waving the two off Eddie renewed his walk back, secretly basking in the strange friendship budding between him and his target's friends. It was the nostalgia and, surprising familiarity that made him drawn to them, the same way he'd felt at home with Stan so quickly. Reaching the door of his target he let out an exhalation, wordlessly placing a bet on whether he was awake which, big surprise, he wasn't. So like the babysitter of a Guardian he was, Eddie lay back on the couch beside Richie as he questioned how it was humanly possible to be tired after a day of doing nothing. Answer? Spend the day with Richie Tozier, or be him.

_________________________________

Laying on the couch, next to a half-asleep Richie Tozier the Guardian couldn't help but jump when his arm sprawled out and hit his wing. However, even half asleep he had noticed and turned to face the Eddie with curious eyes, looking at where his arm had landed a couple more seconds before opening his mouth somewhat, 

"Can I touch them? Like properly?"

Opening his own eyes involuntarily the brunette's wings ruffled in a strange form of consciousness before he cocked his head. It wasn't the first time someone had asked him, a target for that matter, but he still delayed. He didn't think the other would try and pluck one of the feathers but he was still faltering in his nodding. Even if he felt wary it was a strange relief for the other to be talking again.

"Sure." Eddie permitted, leaning closer so his wings were in reach.

It was all fine as Richie prodded interestedly in at the feathery mass on his back, it was all fine until the Guardian realized he'd failed to add on a warning so before he knew it his target was firmly rubbing and putting pressure on the base of his wings.

 _"Ah-h!"_ Came the inevitable grumble of a moan.

Within seconds Eddie Kaspbrak had relocated a foot away from his usual place on the couch, a hand to his chest and his wings vanished completely. Eyes shifting up and down he saw Richie Tozier's eyes widen as large as saucers, looking at his hand in amusement before cracking a grin. 

"Did that-"

"Don't."

"Can I-"

"No!"

"Is it-"

"Yes." Eddie broke eventually, crossing his arms in vulnerability and irritability as he perceived his target's ugly smirk. "I was going to warn you not to but I, for a second, thought you'd have the brains to only poke."

"So like... It's a Guardian turn-on?" The other questioned and although genuine curiosity was there a perverted spark gleamed. 

"It's..." The Guardian swallowed thickly, tapping his foot to mask his struggle. "It is typically used to stimulate arousal between two Guardians when getting intimate."

"But it worked when I did it?" Richie added smugly. 

"You just caught me by surprise." He choked out, through gritted teeth. "Nothing else."

"Then why aren't you sitting beside me?" The man asked, mock-pouting. "I know my masculine whiles are hard to-"

It was in moments like these the Guardian hopelessly shut him up, going to plop back beside him to prove a point which, even he had to admit, was childish. They lasted ten minutes, maybe fifteen, before Richie opened his mouth again.

"Can I please-"

"Bill's and the rest are going to be here in a couple minutes."

"They could always watch-"

"No."

"Or join in-"

"Richie! Just shut up."

There was a silence for a few seconds, but of course, it was interrupted by none other than,

"That's the first time I think you've called me by my name," Richie commented nonchalantly. "If you wanna get really personal my full name is Richard Tozier."

"I already know that," Eddie replied, stifling a roll of his eyes. "It said so in your file."

"What's yours?" He persisted, looking at him like a child would a complicated math problem. "Since we're getting personal."

"Are you serious?" 

"Yes, very. I never joke about second names." 

Taking a moment to roll his eyes at the nonsense spewing from the others mouth he sighed. 

"Kaspbrak." The Guardian answered matter-of-factly, glancing at the other. "My name is Edward Kaspbrak."

"Edward Kapbrak. Eddie Kapbrak. Eddie K." Richie reiterated dramtically. "Eds Kaspbrak."

Again with that nickname, the Guardian felt his cheeks heat up oddly at the use of it. He didn't know what it was but something about it seemed so damn familiar, and not just from any mouth, it was in Richie's voice. Grasping it wouldn't do any good to overanalyze at that moment he shrugged it off, putting it in the box for pondering late at night and ranting to Stan. These boxes often met. The two didn't stay talking for long as within the next five minutes there was a knock on the door to which Richie responded to with a ferocious yawp, which Eddie assumed mean come in you bastard. Of course, they understood it and in barrelled crazily and messily, Bev, Bill, Ben and there just behind them was Stan. In the briefest eye contact, Eddie made with his friend he could tell he wasn't pleased. The reason for this was, well, the Guardian had suggested over the phone that Stan came over for a movie night which he did, thankfully, think was a good idea. It was only as he brought up the number of people that would be there did he get a little sceptic. If he wasn't thrilled after that then... He was mortified when he realized it would be Bill picking up and taking him here. His friend made it clear he didn't like tolerating Bill's clumsiness, and if in the cafe was enough to make him itch then it would certainly be worse here. The brunette had dismantled all of these accusations and said that he'd get to know him better through this.

"Eddie!"

In a matter of seconds, Beverly Marsh had flung herself into an exuberant hug, adding a handshake to the mix. On most occasions, Eddie would've pushed someone off after that but from the time he'd spent talking to her earlier this day and from what he'd learnt from Bill, he already thought her a pretty cool person. She reminded him of someone he had been close with in high school, he couldn't quite place his finger on it but... Maybe it was the way she carried herself, or the smile that he noticed made even him feel a little dumbstruck. It was in moments like that Eddie chastised himself for such a shitty memory, how could be have forgotten someone like her? 

"Hi." The Guardian smiled once the hug had halted. "Brought snacks I see?"

"Oh." She hummed, looking down at the bag. "These aren't for me, Oreos are fucking gross."

With a crinkle of her nose, she hurled them at Richie who was talking to Bill and, much to both Bev and Eddie's amusement, it somehow managed to slam straight in his face as he toppled back cursing like his life depended on it. He learnt after this that Bev wasn't fond of biscuits and was saving all her appetite for a pizza they had ordered, well she said it was Bill's money but obviously she would get the largest amount since she worked the hardest every day. She had her own fashion line she'd slaved over creating for as long as she could remember and, only now, was she receiving the recognition and bank figures she'd deserved. 

Catching Stan talking to Ben he went over to join them to which his friend let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Ben's company, Eddie knew, but it was more the sight of a familiar face that set him at ease. They were similar in the vain of not being terribly social and, whenever they did drink, it was alone together while bitching about everything and anything. Anytime Eddie had wanted to drink alone Stan had been right there, telling him it was against Guardian rules to drink alone which was, in case you don't know, utter bullshit. But he'd said nothing because deep down Eddie was scared to let Stan drink alone too.

It didn't take long for snacks or drinks to come out, not nearly as long as it took for them to all be settled down and ready to watch the first movie. They all started off on a piece of furniture but nevertheless because of Stan's stubbornness he quickly resorted to sitting on the floor rather than beside Bill who, even Eddie admitted, slurped his coke disturbingly loud. Although he supposed Bill earned his chair since Bev and Ben were spooning on the other couch, leaving him not only lonely but squashed. Why couldn't he sit with him and Richie? Well, the thing is Richie Tozier has fucking long-ass legs and whenever Eddie tried to give up his place for Bill the long-legged demon would raise those legs to stop him, tutting and saying he was too comfortable to re-adjust for his friends.

It was by the second movie, the Guardian concluded, that they were all at least vaguely tipsy. Now when he said vaguely tipsy this applied to him, Bill and Ben. Bev and Richie had drunk more than their fair share by this point at it was the alcohol, he thought, in Richie's system that caused him to go into a fit of giggles. Or, alternatively and plausibly, he was simply mad. Stan, on the other hand, had started muttering to himself.

"I know it's strange." Richie slurred somewhat. "But it feels normal with you here, like it feels right that you're hanging out with us. Right guys?"

"Yeah." Came various voices, all in different directions.

It went unnoticed, even by himself, but a smile grew across his lips at the response. It all seemed so... Fitting, the six of them crowded in a tiny apartment, enjoying each other's company. They were all so different but it somehow all balanced out, whenever Richie would make obnoxious commentary they would come together to tell him to shut up when Bev and Ben got to carried away the rest of them were there to groan and roll their eyes. They just fit.

As they all laid there, six unlikely acquaintances half-wasted as they watched their fourth movie and made occasional playful jabs and jokes. Stan was laying on the floor solitarily eating crisps and occasionally rolling his eyes at their stupidity. Ben and Bev cuddled up on one of the couches, stealing kisses and throwing popcorn for Bill, who was sitting across from them in a chair, to catch in his mouth while he otherwise concentrated on the movie. And without even realizing, Eddie was sitting on the other couch with Richie, his head lightly pressed on his shoulder unconsciously and their legs overlapping. It seemed right, all of them together like this, and it was with this thought the Guardian drifted to sleep.

 


	9. The Real Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this chapter: q/f slur.

** Seven Years Ago **

"You're eighteen, Eddie!"

"Exactly, Ma!"

It was a late Tuesday evening as the inhabitants of the Kaspbrak household bickered over their casserole, in other words, it was like every other night at the Kaspbrak's. Well, that wasn't necessarily true, for most of his life, Eddie Kaspbrak had tried his best to appease and avoid conflict with his Mother because, well, what kind of asshole goes out of their way to piss their Mother off? No, he didn't wish his Mother any ill-will but after what he considered a semi-deprived childhood the young man couldn't hold back the occasional quip or complaint about not getting to go anywhere without first being interrogated. He  _was_ heading to college in a few months and while that made him antsy and agitated towards his Mother's fussing it also struck a faint sympathetic chord in him. Eddie Kaspbrak loved his Mom, even when she'd stopped him from hanging out with his friends when he was young... Okay, maybe not so much then but he did love her, and he would miss her. Hell, if he was ever to return to Derry again it would have to be for his Mother.

He'd miss Sonia Kaspbrak, and he tried to remind himself of this as he banged the door behind him and thundered upstairs to his room nostalgically. He'd apologize in the morning, as he always did and sometimes even before that she'd stick her head in the door repentantly, but also with unshaken authority as she'd commence her ' _Eddie Bear,_ I'm sorry but you know it's for your own good,' speech that he'd memorized other the years. If you asked any of his friend's they'd tell you the same thing, that he was nervous about going to college and that no matter how empowered leaving the town would make him feel he'd miss this place... It was his childhood, their childhood. Laying down on his bed, eyes moving around his mostly-bare room Eddie couldn't help but reminisce and close his eyes, taking it all in. This was the room with walls that had always stayed plain, per his Mother's rules, the room where he'd had his first kiss with a girl, and discovered he didn't much like girls. No, it was where he'd cemented his belief he didn't like girls, he'd always  _known._ It was where he'd hidden when he was 'sick,' and not allowed to see anyone, it was where his friends had snuck through his window despite this. Yes, he hated this house, this cramped contained and suffocating box of a room but... He also loved all that had conspired in here. It was with his eyes closed, these memories washing over him and the fade out of the TV downstairs that Eddie felt his consciousness slip away gradually, at least he did until a loud thud sounded just outside his house, followed by a string of  _'fucks.'_

If Eddie didn't know who this person was, or how long it took his Mother to walk to the door, then he might've been worried or scrambled to look out the window. And sure enough, once he lifted up his windows he was greeted by Richie Tozier, making his second attempt at climbing the tree he'd climbed so many times over the years, not even noticing him as he cursed about the dangers he went through to see him. 

"You okay there, Romeo?" Eddie called, quietly laughing. "Break anything?"

"Only your Mom's hymen." The scruffy boy retorted as he drew closer. 

"Beep Beep." He muttered back, a smile on his face all the same."Seriously, you okay?"

"Peachy." Richie shrugged, steadying himself on the window sill. "How about you?"

"Honestly, I'm ready to leave this godforsaken place." The other replied truthfully, poking his head further out the window. "More than ready."

"Why don't we? I've been saying it for years, Eds." Richie bounced back, leaning his goofy face through the window carelessly. "You, me and the open road. Can't imagine anything I'd love more."

"I'd love that too." He couldn't help but find himself sigh. "But we've only got a couple more months till college then we're free."

"What's a couple months early?"

"What's my Mom's early grave?"

Eddie rubbed his arm guiltily after his joke because as much as Richie loved to make Mom jokes, and he did, after losing his own he'd toned it down and none of them really made them any more, especially not around him. It was like making a crack about George to Bill. You just didn't do it. It was an unspoken law amongst the six of them, dead people just weren't something you joked about. However, his comment didn't seem to phase the lanky boy on the other side of his window, definitely not compared to his look of apprehension a second later as he heard the front door burst open, Sonia Kaspbrak spilling out as her full chest heaved irritably and, for Christ's sake, an actual pistol at the ready. 

"Oh _fuck me_."

"Get in."

Without thinking much about the difference in their size Eddie grasped the other's forearms and used the muscle he'd built up from his summer job to haul him into his room, head first as they stumbled in a messy heap together. Waiting breathlessly for the sound of a door shutting and TV blaring Eddie couldn't help but crack a proud smile at the fact he'd managed to accomplish lugging such a large human through his window while, said human, was checking himself for bruising. 

"That's the last time I'll have to do that," Richie stated thoughtfully. "No more sneaking around."

"Thank God." He couldn't help but sigh, landing a hasty kiss on his lips. "It's been rough,"

A smug grin pulled against his lips. "That's what-"

"I said." Eddie finished. " _Yes, I know._ "

The two sat there on the bed for an hour or two, mostly silent with a couple of pecks but an occasional sentimental repartee would make it's way in there as they contemplated what life would be like in a few months. His Mother had been one of twelve demons in their relationship, something that should just be between them was made into all of Derry's business just because they weren't  _normal_. It was with a prick of guilt Eddie remembered all the fights they'd gotten into because of this, not just with other ignorant people but with each other. All because he was convinced, was even now a little convinced, that Richie could've lived his life even a fragment more peacefully if not for him. Sure, he had a loud mouth and sometimes, even their friend's admitted, it was like his face and actions screamed ' _fight me,_ ' and ' _come get me, you assholes_.' It was a known fact that Richie Tozier could trigger a beating without so much as lifting a finger but to have this chip on his shoulder  _and_ be known as his boyfriend? Eddie still considered it suicide on his boyfriend's part but he knew, deep down, that if Richie felt like he wasn't worth it then he wouldn't have kissed him back that first night, two years ago. 

"The rest want to meet up tonight," Richie started, glancing at him as he rubbed confused patterns in his arm (he wasn't capable of sticking to one rhythm.) "To celebrate leaving this shit hole."

"Again?" Eddie cracked, an adoring smile appearing as he thought of their friends. "Sure, at Bill's?"

________________

If it wasn't at the dam, then rest assured they would all meet up at Bill Denbrough's. Throughout their years together Bill had always acted as a sort of leader, one whom they all fell a little in love with at some time, platonically or not. Richie, Ben and Stan had fallen for his random spurts of hilarity, his support, and general kindness. Bev and Eddie, on the other hand, had both gone through periods of time where they loved their friend as more than that. Bev, when she was fourteen and fifteen, Eddie throughout basically most of his pre-teen years. It was something the two had both talked to Bill about when it happened and never really affected them. Well, effected Eddie. Bev and Bill had dated and it was going well... For maybe a month before they realized it was too awkward to carry on. In the end, the six of them forgot it, it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things

Arriving at Bill's was the same as always, the rest of their friends were already sprawled about the living room and a thin stream of smoke was already coming from the kitchen where, undoubtedly, Beverly Marsh resided awaiting her smoking partner who without shrugging off his jacket hustled to join her. Stifling an eye-roll Eddie commuted to the couch where Bill, Ben and Stan were arguing over what type of movie they watched. The other two in the kitchen didn't need to chip in because Bev would never mind unless it was something she really didn't agree with and Richie... Well, he'd find a way to talk through the whole thing some way. One night they'd even watched a documentary on wildlife to shut him up but all that had done was birth his David Attenborough Voice that served to drive them all insane for the following month. 

"We're not watching that!"

"Why?"

"It's depressing!"

This current argument was between Ben and Stan, regarding Stan's movie pick which was 'The Boy in The Striped Pajamas.' And rather than having an opinion on the matter Eddie cracked up over the hilarity he derived from hearing Ben's enthusiastic, and determined voice converse and argue with Stan's monotone and deadpanned tone and expression. While he agreed that Stan's choice was a little... Though-provoking, he didn't think Ben's much better as the guy considered Woody Allan the best director in history and wanted to watch 'Annie Hall,' Thankfully, in the back of his head Eddie knew Bev would agree with him on that movie as she'd once gone on a rant to Ben about the movie's depiction of women and how it encouraged an unhealthy expectation of them. 

"I only have one condition." He interrupted, looking at them carefully. "No fucking musicals, I don't want to go home with Richie singing 'Greased Lighting.'"

"Suh-So you're Sandy?" Bill interjected, cracking a smile. 

"Bill-"

"I agree." Stan chipped in. "Musicals are dumb."

"What about 'The 40-Year-Old Virgin?'" Bill suggested. 

"That's gay," Richie commented as he entered, landing a kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah." Stan murmured dryly.

Sliding down next to those of the couch Richie kept part of his hand levered, playing with the cuff of Eddie's jeans when not speaking. Following a couple seconds later Bev flopped beside him on the floor, surveying the movie's laid out before her, crinkling her nose as Eddie knew she would at the sight of 'Annie Hall,' The debate on the best movie went on longer than any real fight the group of friend's had ever had, but it was in the kind of nature that made them all laugh on the inside. 

"Here's the rules," Ben started to Bev and Richie. "No depressing movies, and no musicals."

"Any suggestions."

There was a brief silence of thinking before,

"Mean Girls."

"Ratatouille."

"Legally Blonde."

"The Breakfast Club."

"Shrek."

"Brokeback Mountain."

_"No,"_

In case it wasn't obvious half these suggestions came from either Bev or Richie, and that horrified rejection of the last movie came from Stan Uris.

"Why not?" Richie demanded. "I can't believe I'm dealing with homophobia in my own friend group-"

"You aren't gay." Stan pointed out dubiously. "And it isn't homophobia, I just know you'd end up feeling up your boyfriend during the tent scenes."

"What's wrong with loving my man?" Richie retorted incredulously. "He's cu-"

" _Richie-_ " Eddie warned. "I swear if you-"

_"Cute, cute, cute!"_

The group of friends went dead silent, awaiting the blast.

"I'm not letting you touch me for the rest of the week."

"But-"

"No."

"It's only Tuesday!"

"You know I hate it."

"But you are cu-"

With one murderous glance, Richie Tozier shut his trap, glumly climbing onto the couch that his boyfriend had just evacuated. To make the matters worse, for both Richie and to Stan's chagrin, the movie of the night was none other than 'Brokeback Mountain' due to Bill liking the actors, Ben genuinely liking the movie, Bev not minding and Richie suggesting the damn thing. As for him? Well, Eddie was starting to take quiet amusement at the accuracy of Stan's earlier accusations. Since there were two fold-out couches in Bill's sitting room they were divided between the six friends. Ben, Richie and Stan all sat on the first one, none of them entirely thrilled with the seating position. While on the other couch Bill, Bev and Eddie sat together comfortably, not a gap between the three of them as they cuddled close enough for Bev to occasionally play with his hair, with him leaning on her shoulder, and his legs piled on top of Bill's whose arms stretched around him and Bev relaxedly. The difference between the six was a stark one. 

For once, Eddie realized, Richie hadn't talked during a movie as the only time he'd heard a peep out of him was during the tent scene which he gave an inflated groan at, earning him a raise of the eyebrow and sneer from Stan. Unphased by the scene Ben tucked into his popcorn, throwing some over for Bev when she requested it. Another thing he couldn't help but realize was that, compared to other movie nights, this one was moderately sober but he knew as he thought this that Bill, sure enough, went out to get them beers, prosecco for Eddie and Stan, and a glass of water for Ben who had been off drinking for a month now. Out of the six of them, it was always either Bev or Richie to first show any tipsiness, however, in a change of events Bill Denbrough, their beloved leader was the one getting a little wishy-washy. And Eddie didn't mind this, he quite enjoyed the warm embraces and gentle hair tugs from his friend, however, this was only a start as Bill started swaying at some point, glass in hand, and before he knew it the liquid sloshed onto Eddie's shirt that absorbed it into a large dirty stain. A slight groan escaped him before he got up from his comfortable seat, feeling Richie's eyes watch his every movement as he headed for the door, smiling a slightly smug smile before going upstairs to Bill's room where he knew, from previous sleepovers, one of his shirts occupied his drawers. 

Only once he found said t-shirt did he realize that, while it was his, it hadn't always been  _his_. It was one of Richie's that had originally been leant to him because he had nothing to sleep in, and no matter how much Richie had jeered he'd refused to sleep with nothing on him. However, over time it had just become a shirt he correlated with his boyfriend, and that he wore far more often than he'd care to admit. All the same, knowing there wasn't really a second option, he pulled it on and headed downstairs where the movie had been paused for him coming back. Slipping back between his two friends by way of apology Bill gave him a half-armed hug and a low 'sorry,' that was far too monotoned to be taken seriously. 

"It's fine, Big Bill.." He muttered, patting his friends back. "God, it's  _fine,_  stop blubbering."

After an immense session of therapy with his friend, Eddie convinced Bill that he hadn't committed some heinous crime and that he could never hate him, and would always love him no matter what. Once he was sure that he wasn't lying, the two folded back into a comfortable position again, after letting a drunk Bill braid what was possibly the twelfth plait in his hair Eddie shuffled closer to Bev who welcomed him with open arms, letting him lay on her chest without question. As the movie reached a climax he felt Bev laugh, the sound travelling through his ear and vibrating pleasantly, Bev had, Eddie decided, a magical laugh. It wasn't sardonic like Stan's, obnoxious like Richie's, charmingly awkward like Bill's or quiet like Ben's, her laugh was uninhibited and bright, like a kid. After she had stopped laughing she pointed Eddie to what had caused her reaction and Eddie's curious eyes landed on his boyfriend who was staring at the screen huffily, arms crossed and lip snagged between buck-teeth in an attempt to focus. He looked like this from that point on until the end of the movie. 

In the end, half of the group of friends had fallen asleep, one of them the movie night's host Bill Denbrough whose hand was still gripping Eddie's even in sleep. Gently removing it Eddie couldn't help but brush the hair out of his friend's face, shaking his head in amusement of his drunken habits, even the spillage. Bev, although awake as ever, said she'd stay over with the rest of them rather than going home, saying she'd get in more trouble for walking home in the dark than she would for not coming home at all. It was with a sad smile Eddie bid goodbye to Bev, the fact she was finally moving out of this town and away from her Father brought all six of them a sense of relief. They loved their friend dearly and knew what moving away would mean for her, how much it would mean for her.

____________________________

"I meant it." He evoked. "Just cause I'm letting you hold my hand doesn't mean you're off the hook, you know I hate being called cute."

The walk to Eddie's was a longspun one, and although he hadn't asked he knew Richie was going to trail him home like a puppy, like always. Somehow, despite the rule he'd enforced, their hands found a way to tangle and, no matter how annoyed Eddie was, he couldn't bring himself to separate the touch. That's just the way they were, always equated. 

"I know, Eds." His lover cried dramatically, bringing his hand to his lips. "But I just see you and-"

"It makes me feel like a child." He maintained, looking back at him to make a point of how serious he was being. "Or a girl... Do you see me as a young girl?"

"Ah yes." Richie monologued theatrically. "The fair young maiden Eds Kaspbrak whose dick I-"

"God, shut up." Eddie laughed, "I'll break the rule, just stop, okay? God, I can't believe I'm dating a going-to-be drama major."

"Can't believe I'm dating a gonna-be-mechanic." He riposted before pausing in his step, staring at him. "Wait, did you say the rule's broken? I can-"

"Yes." He said amusedly. "I did."

Without so much as a warning, Richie Tozier launched to the secluded part in-between two bright houses, towing him along with him like a rag-doll before freezing once more and flashing an excitable and relieved grin, kissing him happily. 

"You have no idea," Richie started, resting his hands on his waist. "What I went through while watching that movie."

Shaking his head Eddie merely told him it was a test of endurance which, of course, earnt a rhetoric innuendo that he chose to ignore. They stayed there for a good ten minutes, never having the strength or motivation to continue walking to his house. If not for the crunch of gravel behind them the two lovers would've, unquestionably, stayed there for another hour. If not for the fear that struck Eddie's chest at that moment that surely would've been the case but sometime's life just wasn't fair. Sometimes your make-out session is interrupted by the resident asshole of Derry, Henry Bowers. 

"Where you off to, queer?"

Eddie stayed silent, he'd dealt with this for his whole life... Richie hadn't which was why he tried to push him behind him. Even if neither of them was any match for Bowers it was an unspoken fact that if anyone were to land a punch it would be Eddie, not his noodle-legged boyfriend whose stance currently mirrored an awkward giraffe trying to ice-skate. 

"Trying to start something?" Henry buzzed, hand in his pocket, fidgeting. "You really think it's okay to prance around like a- Like a -"

"Like a what?" Eddie couldn't hold back. "A queer? You're really a bright one, aren't you Bowers?"

He was damn near stuttering while he spat that out, it was visible to anyone and especially the guy it was directed at but all the same, he held his ground, keeping a spare spark of attention on the boy behind him, on the shudders wracking through his thin body and his slack mouth that he was working so hard to keep shut. All he could think about at that moment was Richie behind him, whose foot kept edging forwards to fight, who he kept pushing back in an awkward attempt to hide but... You can't protect everyone, Eddie knew that very well.

"Listen here-"

Shaking his head he kicked the back of Richie's heels, they didn't need to pick a fight tonight. 

"Hey," Eddie started, roughly holding his eyes. "We're moving out of this shithole in a couple months, can't you just let us go?"

"Not gonna miss me?" Bower's cocked out, a sneer crossing his lips. "How 'bout a parting gift for you fags?"

"Come on," Richie muttered, standing in front of Bower's irritably, his slack mouth opening. "You really have to be such a dick, all the time?"

Henry Bowers did, indeed, have to be a dick all the time, as within a second of the remark leaving the boy's mouth a switchblade was waved in front of his face warningly pressed against his forehead with a serious intent. This wasn't a game, and Richie Tozier hadn't realized that yet.

So without thinking Eddie Kaspbrak pushed his idiot of a boyfriend out of the way, earning the idiot a thin trickle of blood on his forehead, assuming it would be on the shortest setting but alas... The blade was turned to it's tallest setting, and in the same second, it had been dangerously pressed against his chest the owner of the blade's hand shuddered, plunging the knife deep into the young man's chest, while his lover turned pale as a sheet, only able to stare in horror. The darkness didn't come immediately, the first thing to go was his balance as he collapsed beneath his feet, thin arms trying to keep him up but slipping. His sight was the next thing to blur, the last thing he clearly saw being his lover's white face. And lastly, very lastly was his hearing that didn't die till his heart stopped. 

In his last minutes, before his body failed, Eddie Kaspbrak could only hear one thing, the definitive, and desperate repetition of an old nickname from his lover's mouth.  _Eds, Eds, Eds._


	10. How It Came to Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aphosylite (ah-pho-suh-lit) - A Guardian remedy used as a method of relaxation, or to induce tiredness.

_**A year and a Bit Ago** _

With a sudden jolt, Eddie Kaspbrak awoke, foreign pastel walls meeting his eyes and the intoxicating scent of roses filling his nostrils at the first intake of breath. It was with a panicking, scattering breathe he realized there was no door in the room he was trapped in. Patting his arms he felt firm and real enough, it was all - _Richie._ Frantically he looked around for his phone, for any proof that he wasn't, in fact, dead, that this was all a dream and the stab he sustained hadn't in fact been fatal and that he was actually in some sort of hospital and his boyfriend was waiting at home for him to get better. He filled his head will all these suggestions, all these cover-ups to prove he wasn't going insane, to prove there was the smallest thread to grab onto. However, these delusions didn't last long because, no matter what anyone may say, he was a sensible person and rational thinker. Okay, maybe not _all_ the time. _Maybe his Mother was right,_ he found himself thinking deliriously, non-sensically, _maybe_ love did make you stupid. More than stupid it had made him irrational, he couldn't be in a hospital. He didn't come to this conclusion from common sense or the fact that no hospital in the world looked like this. No, what solidified Eddie's belief was that he knew that if he was in a hospital, no matter what time of the day it was, Richie Tozier would've been in here with him and not through himself being injured. No, Eddie knew for a fact that if he was hurt that there was no way his boyfriend would be anywhere but by his side, apologizing like the over-analytical and dramatic idiot he was. _Is,_ Eddie corrected himself, accepting death as a possibility quicker than most, thanking whatever higher power that Richie wasn't with him because, no matter how unscathed he was, he knew this place couldn't be good. 

Just as the short man was starting to stand up and further investigate there was a crack of light in one of the walls which, evidently, turned out to be a door leading to a whole other set of new surroundings. The split of light wasn't unaccompanied as a dark, elegant hand snaked in with it before a figure was standing before him, wall closing up once more. Steadying himself on the wall Eddie winced as he looked at who, no not who, _what_ had entered the room. The light that had previously greeted his eyes wasn't gone, it was staring him right in the face and it was damn near fucking blinding him. Even looking at the figure positioned in front of him he couldn't tell where exactly the light was coming from, was it the strained smile that showcased dazzling teeth? Was it in the baby pink suit, with the white button-down? Was it in the eyes? He just couldn't figure it out. The reason Eddie hadn't recounted more details about this person was that... He wasn't exactly sure he was looking at a _person_. The being had the body of a man but... There was something feminine in them, something androgynous that didn't let him pinpoint a specific pronoun to use. Dark skin made the smile that much more illuminating, and the skin peeking out of the baby pink suit served to make a profound contrast that puzzled and proved Eddie dumb-struck. They were... Beautiful, undoubtedly but somehow even beautiful didn't seem sufficient enough to define them. This being wasn't meant to be _defined_. 

"Who-" He started, finding his tongue dry a millisecond later. 

"I'm Mike." The _being,_ replied. "Also known as Cupid here."

Whatever semblance of balance, of surety and calm that Eddie had established just jumped off the Empire State building. While his tongue continued to taste like sawdust in his mouth, and while his limbs seemed to seize up his brain was going at a mile a minute trying to establish that he wasn't, in fact, losing his head, or partially deaf. _Cupid_. Eddie had always thought himself a sceptic, not to the point of his dear friend Stan Uris but, a sceptic none the less. He wasn't gullible but... His suspension of belief was being stretched at that moment and after waking up in a room with padded walls he wasn't too sure he could depend on his judgement. For the moment, and just for the moment, he decided he wouldn't think too hard about it. He prioritized what was important to him at that moment which was, in order: Richie, whether he was dead or not, and the correct pronouns to use for the being he was about to ask. Taking a weak breath Eddie steadied himself on one of the soft, protective walls. 

"Okay, _Cupid_." Eddie started, barely suppressing the bubbling hysteria. "Where's Richie-"

"Tozier." Cupid-Mike finished (He refused to call this being _Cupid_ , it was cringe-inducing), clasping his calloused hands. "He's still alive, which is what I know you wanted to ask. But we really must have a talk, Edward Kaspbrak."

Despite the circumstances, the brunette took a deep, careful sigh of relief. Richie was alive and while that raised a fair amount of more questions, and only answered one, it was enough to steady his heartbeat. Parting his mouth he wanted to ask a million questions but all that came out of his mouth was, "You sure like interrupting people, don't you?"

Mike looked vaguely perplexed. "Apologies, an occupational habit. I think we should talk in here."

Nodding his head Eddie's brow furrowed when the being plopped down in front of him, legs in a basket. It was an almost comically sight, a being that looked older than anyone he knew sitting in such a childish position, with such an ancient and anxious expression taking up their face. It was with caution he followed the other's actions, only it proved to be a harder task for the brunette as the phantom of a stab wound ghosted in his gut when sitting. Mike was the first to say anything. 

"You're very calm for someone who just woke up in such unfamiliar surroundings."

"The calm's wearing off, I promise you."

"Ah, that would be... The aphosylite."

"The _what_ now?"

"It's something we use here to calm down."

"It's a _drug_. You _drugged_ me."

"And it's clearly wearing off, so I'll get on with this. What's the last thing you remember?"

Muttering something vague about the legality of things Eddie pursued his lip, looking to the _being_ and back to his lap pensively before sighing. "I was heading home with my boyfriend as we ran into this asshole, Bower, maybe you know him."

"Eddie..." 

"He had a knife and I... I couldn't let Richie get stabbed." 

There was another long pause as Mike let him calm himself. The panic and unfamiliarity were enough to drive any man insane but it wasn't what made him pause, it wasn't what made the other consider him with vague pity. No, Eddie Kaspbrak, even if he didn't notice himself, was starting to leak small and quiet tears. Throughout his life he'd allowed himself only to cry in front of very specific people, his Mother being removed from the list after a certain incident as a teenager. It even felt shitty to cry in front of his friends sometimes but right now he wished he was crying in front of them, in front of anyone that wasn't some unknown powerful being. He missed the awkward and kind pats when Ben comforted him, missed the mean-but-secretly-worried comments Stan would make whenever he was upset, missed how Bev's maternal instinct would activate around him if something bad happened and more than anything, in that Goddamn moment, more than anything, Eddie missed the way Richie had changed in his methods of comforting him. From laughing and calling him a _pussy_ when they were kids, secretly checking up on him after, to the experimental half-hug he'd given him as early teens to the last, fierce embrace, and peppering kisses he'd received as a young adult. God, he missed being alive and he'd only known he was dead for about an _hour_. 

"So I'm dead?"

"Yes."

_Fuck._

"But Richie's alive?"

"Yes."

Maybe it was how pathetic he looked in that moment, or maybe Mike just didn't know how to handle humans crying in front of him but whatever it was, it was about to change the entire situation and both of their lives. 

"Would you like to check up on him?"

Sharply looking up Eddie expected to see a grin on Mike's face, _ha, got ya_ , forming on his lips but instead, he saw a frown. A twisted, frowning mouth that seemed to worry about the outcome of their words. Nodding carefully the being moved closer to him without even really moving, and without even asking questions or permission the dark hand clasped onto his wrist firmly. Before he lost sight of the padded floor Eddie could hear a vague whisper from Cupid, 

"I'm sorry."

But those words were lost on him as his mind was transported from the claustrophobic confinement of the little room to a dusty, half-furnished apartment. The decor wasn't exactly ugly but it was the half-assed attempt of a young adult on a budget who, even if persuaded, found a way to spend their hard-earned money on the most worthless crap and used the scrapings left to pay for basic necessities. It was with a weak but amused realization he realized that this all screamed Richie who, only if you were looking for would you be able to spot in amongst the clutter. Only, Eddie wished he hadn't. Greeting his desperate, scanning his eyes was a Richie Tozier surrounded by bottles as if they were his close friends as if he were the most popular guy in the world. This wasn't what caused the tugging, excruciating pain in his chest, no, he was used to a drunk boyfriend although this was, admittedly excessive. No, it wasn't the bottles that struck a chord in him, instead, it was the young man himself who didn't even look like the boy he'd fallen in love with or the kid who'd poured coffee on his shirt to hide a stain. With his head hung heavy on the shittily made table the curly-haired man's glassy eyes were having a conversation with a bottle of pills beside him. 

 _I could make you happier,_ the pills told Richie Tozier.

 _I could really do with some happiness,_ Richi Tozier responded. 

Eddie wasn't sure he could take much more of this. Even as he watched this he was presented with the crushing limitation that was not being able to do anything. He couldn't do anything as his lover's hand clumsily reached for the pills, he couldn't do anything as he knocked said pills all over his carpet and attempted to collect them again, he couldn't do anything as the boy he wanted to spend the rest of his life with curled up into a pathetic ball and cursed himself for being alive. The sobs that wracked through Richie's body found their way into his chest, causing him to find tears in his own eyes that wouldn't disappear no matter how hard he wiped them away. _He couldn't do anything._ The picture of his lover started faltering then, like an old tape that had been scratched or played too much. Feeling Cupid's hand pulling him back Eddie felt the last connection to his human life slip through his fingers, but instead of falling like sand it cut him as it disappeared, like one of those expensive vases, as if containing his lover's would-be ashes. It was a grim but warning though. 

Like he'd woken up from a nightmare Eddie opened his eyes to the same white room. Vaguely he felt the pressure on his wrist fade as Mike shrunk back into themself, saying nothing for the first few moments as he tried to collect himself. Or, at least, found a way to stop the unattractive noises erupting from his chest, and the streaming wetness from his eyes. This turned out to be a longer chore than planned and he could feel Mike's hesitance, and also lack the knowledge to other support, reminiscent of Stan's form of comforting at times, they were similar in a way, Mike and Stan. 

"How-" He started, cutting himself off this time. "Is it possible to see him? To go bah-back? _Please_ -"

"Mr Kaspbrak." The being started, looking at his own elegant hands with morose pity. "It is possible to go back to earth but..."

"I'll do it."

"Eddie-"

" _Mike_."

"Do you even have any idea why you're here?"

"Because I'm fucking  _dead_."

"Not exactly, how long do you think you've been dead?"

"I-"

He really didn't know.

"You've been here for five years, Eddie," Mike told him, never breaking eye contact, nostrils still flaring. "Usually people wake up in a matter of days but you..."

_Five years. Richie._

"Wait, what?" He uttered, staring at the being. "You mean to tell me I've been-"

"Do you really think this is where the dead end up, Eddie?" The being asked, genuinely pensive at that moment. "This is only a pitstop. I can send you back down to earth but it isn't on yours or my terms."

"Just spit it all out." Eddie couldn't help but demand "I just want to know what I _can do_."

"You weren't supposed to die that night, Eddie. That's why I think they'd let you return to earth." The being trailed off, maybe trying to compose his second sentence. "You could ensure his safety for a time but... He wouldn't be able to see you." 

Eddie thought this through and, no matter how relieved he was, he couldn't help but feel like even this offer had it's catches. He'd help Richie and then what? They surely wouldn't let him stay there forever, watching over him like an Angel. That would be too good, and Eddie had gotten the furthest he had in life by questioning everything, he wasn't about to stop now. He knew how much it would hurt him to see Richie but for Richie to not see him, he knew that was a sufficient price to pay for breaking the realms of life and death but somehow, deep down, he knew it wasn't enough. 

"What about after?" He prodded, head hanging low. "After I stop... Once he doesn't need me looking over him."

"You'll wake up back here when your times out." Mike prefaced, a sad smile tugging their lips. "But you're memories will be wiped, which is why I need you to make a choice now."

Ah, there it was. He'd expected it but still, a strangled sort of noise escaped his throat despite his efforts to keep it down. He could've accepted Richie not seeing him because, while it would hurt he at least got to see him but now... There would be a hole in his soul that he wouldn't be able to pinpoint. Without asking Mike he knew what he could do, he knew that if he went onto the afterlife right then that he could go with his memories but, even though Cupid was anything but human, he understood that there was no way Eddie could leave this world with Richie in full self-destruct mode. Choices... He'd never been very good at making his mind up, it was why in their old group of friends Bill Denbrough was the leader, it was why as a kid he would always take Bill's words as rule and follow them no matter what. It had been why he and his Mom had so few disagreements when he was younger. Making his own choices was paralysing. 

It was with a mumbled acceptance that he asked Mike, "What choice?"

"After your times' up you will either end up in the afterlife." They started, choosing their words carefully. "Or back here, working as one of my Guardians. Depending on which you choose right now."

Neither of these offers was exactly tantalising but he couldn't help but ask,

"What does being a Guardian entail?"

The answer was someone who helped people in their love problems which, to Eddie, pretty much sounded like a job as an editor on horoscopes in magazines. Pretty fucking boring, and bullshit. It was with deflation that he realized there was no winning side to his choice considering his memories were gone, either way, at least that's what he thought before a particular word spewed from Mike's careful mouth caught his attention,

_Earth._

Picking up on his interest Mike nodded their head slowly, again adorning that encompassingly pitiful smile that Eddie found ridiculous because, no matter how kind and elegant this _being_ was, they couldn't possibly be able to relate or emphasize. Mike wasn't a human and therefore, in his mind, could never understand what it felt like to love someone as much as he did. However, even if Mike wasn't human he knew what to say to solidify his decision in being a Guardian because it was all he needed to hear. Even if he lost his memories, even if none of his friends could remember him he knew he couldn't live with himself if he didn't try and see them again. It was as Mike said, it wasn't his time to leave, and no matter what anyone said Eddie believed that to be fact.

"If you work as one of my guardians once you get back, you'll meet him again while you're down there. I promise you."

"But I won't remember him?"

"No,"

"And he won't remember me?"

"No."

"But... But I'll be able to see him? Talk to him?"

"You will meet him at some point, I promise."

 

______________________

Eddie Kaspbrak got to spend another year with Richie Tozier before he was plucked from the earth once more. It was not the year of his dreams and he hadn't expected it to me. It was, he dared say, the hardest year of his life and surprisingly enough the fact his lover couldn't see him remained the smallest contributing factor to this testament. No, Eddie knew what he was getting into in terms of looking after Richie but what he hadn't known or rather hadn't taken into consideration was his threshold for seeing the love of his life try to end his life so many times. Repeatedly, night after night, he would wake up in cold sweat to see a strange vision of Richie walking out into the street and stopping in the middle of the road, to see drinking himself to the brink of unconsciousness by early afternoon. It was Hell, for both of them and in very different ways. 

Although Richie couldn't see him there were times he felt like he could. Like when he'd succeeded in pushing the greasy-haired man to shower, or hang out with their old friends Bill and Bev, or _actually go to Uni._ Their old friends... They also couldn't see Eddie and he would be lying if he said there weren't times he was tempted to sneak away and check up on them but, in the end, he knew who he was there for and it wasn't a task that could take the backseat. 

There were nights Eddie didn't want to sleep when back on earth, those were the nights that he felt this life wasn't so bad, that he could live just being Richie's angel quite happily... But deep down he knew that this wouldn't be possible. He knew one night he'd fall asleep and he'd wake up having no memory of anything and it was when keeping this as a reminder that Eddie felt truly terrified because he didn't know what deemed his job here done. Was it when Richie no longer needed him? When he finally got proper treatment? _When._

He fell asleep asking these questions, and ironically that was the last night he'd spend on earth looking after Richie Tozier.

__________________________

_ **Six Months Ago** _

When Eddie Kaspbrak woke up for the second time in the white room he had the energy, and sense, to be suspicious of the foreign surroundings. However, while the clearing of his memories and the lack of his love-struck streak had made him a tad more sensible he was, alas, not able to deduce that he couldn't stand as the moment he attempted such action his legs gave out beneath him. Out of nowhere, his mind produced a new and strange word,  _aphosylite_. It was the result of a lack of sleep, at best and the resurfacing of memories, at worst, at least at worst for Cupid. 

As the life came back to his legs the brunette also felt a surge of frustration at how clueless he felt. Just as he was preparing himself to demand an explanation, or find an opening there was a patch of light emitting from one of the walls which now, had an enlarging crack in it. Through the crack, a young man, around his age, appeared. The man too was foreign to Eddie in the sense that he'd never seen him before. Wavy hair, scrawny bird-like features, and eyes that couldn't seem to focus on one thing at a time, this is the man that greeted him, stood in a pensive stance, clipboard clasped in his bony hands.

"Eddie Kaspbrak? Follow me, Mike wants to see you."


	11. Eddie Kaspbrak Takes Mike Hanlon's Advice... For Once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize it had been almost two weeks since I updated!! I feel a little bad about that, especially considering the extra time I've had on my hands (I may have spent it watching White Collar) but to make up for it here's a doubly long chapter! I didn't actually plan this to be as long as it is but... Enjoy. :')

As a Guardian, one of the traits to pride yourself on was being an earlier riser, always on time. That being said, Eddie was still fast asleep on Richie Tozier's couch, oblivious to any and everything going on in the outside world. He didn't know why but it was the most pleasant slumber he'd sustained in months, years even. Maybe it was the vague smell of coffee wafting through the tiny apartment, or the tentative spillage of the sun through the blinds or the beating heart against his left ear that...Wait. With a sudden pang, Eddie shot up and, rather than from shock, although that genuinely contributed to his erratic heart, it was from an excruciating pressure in his gut. If he was normal, if he didn't go into hysteria at the smallest indicators of illness he would've brushed it off as a hangover but, as it was proven time and time again, he didn't take things lightly. Only this time, he was right to assume that it was serious as across from the room he spotted Stan looking right at him, his expression a hybrid between the typical I told you so twist of his lips and the rare, but vague, distress. So honed in on his fellow Guardian's expression Eddie hadn't noticed the two standing beside him, Bev and Bill, who must've been up just as early as Stan. Amongst the friends there were three early risers, none of their reasons for being such conflicting. Bill was awake because that's just what you did as an over-achieving Uni student, it was what someone who struggled whether to prioritize studying or friends and chose friends, reaped the consequences of three-am-cramming did. The second early bird was Bev, someone that despite fierce first impressions had a knack for drawing the beauty out of any and everything, resulting in her taking advantage of the calm of the morning, and the first sip of coffee that came with being a workaholic. Then there was Stan who didn't really have much a choice in his sleeping habits, he slept for days or not at all, always scared of the thoughts that surrounded him at a certain hour, always busting his ass to please Mike. These three early birds who, for all intensive purposes couldn't be more different, found a humorous and enjoyable aspect in not spending the morning alone for once. 

"Nice sleep?" Bev asked him, a cigarette dangling lazily from her fingers, an infectious grin on her cherry lips. 

"I- Fuck"

And there it was again, that throbbing, shooting pain in his gut. The feeling of being sliced with a knife of ice, expecting to trickle warmblood but instead feeling your insides freeze, and twist intricately as if someone was reaching inside, grappling with your insides. It was painful, to say the very least. Before the other three could voice their concern or even step foot in his direction a misconstrued hand flopped against his back, an unconscious movement with no real intent but within the same second the contact was made, like magic, the pain in his gut ceased completely, like it had never happened. And to the two watching, nothing had happened but to Stan, who had been watching intently, what he'd just seen had been beyond his comprehension. It was with newly sharped eyes, clean of the mist from the steamy coffee, that the other Guardian scrutinized him before setting his lips in a hard, chapped line. 

"Sorry Bev," Stan said, in that monotonous and strained voice of his that only now, talking to someone new, was a degree warmer. "But I think Eddie and I have to go." 

Giving him a nod of understanding the brunette moved up from the couch, only to have the feeling strike harshly yet again due to the lost contact. Clutching his gut Eddie staggered to the door with Stan by his side, immovable as a boulder and Bill and Bev eyeing him with the worry of two older siblings. Bill's mouth opened and closed a dozen times trying to vocalize his concern while Bev merely spoke with her pursed lips and green eyes, both of which evidently posed a question, are you sure you're okay? He wasn't quite sure how to answer that but that was why he was going with Stan, to go see their Boss so they could give their helpful insight. Within a minute of Stan working his Guardian magic, which varied from Eddie's because his circumstances were... Special, they were in Cupid's office. If it had been anyone else, Hell if it had been Eddie, Cupid would've been peeved at a Guardian entering their office without knocking but, it was Stan. Mike had a private soft spot for Stanley Uris that everyone, even the being themself, seemed to be oblivious to. Idiots, Eddie thought sparingly. 

"Eddie," Mike said calmly, then adding two shades brighter. "Stan."

"We have a... Well, it's not a problem." Stan started, his trademark eyebrow crease retreating at Mike's open gaze. "A conundrum if anything."

"Basically I've been getting this bitch of a pain in my gut."

At his sudden outbreak, Cupid's eyes flickered back to him, their breath halting and eyes bulging for half a second, no more. Mike was professional, there was no doubt about it, but even with the most professional people, there would always be favourites. He knew that there were so many Guardians that their Boss had trouble keeping up with names, they remembered those good at their jobs and those whose skills were lackluster; that was it. Everyone else was just blurred for Cupid, Stan and Eddie were lucky enough to keep their interest outside of his peripheral vision. 

"Are you sure you aren't just staying too much time on Earth?"

Eddie and Stan shared a look. 

"We come back here to sleep, for the most part." The taller of the two answered, shooting a considering glance at the brunette. "However, Eddie forgot to include that this morning the pain stopped when File0089 touched him."

"God, just call him Richie." The short of the two couldn't help but retort theatrically. "He isn't an animal."

This time Mike and Stan shared a look. 

"I can't read your star-crossed lover looks," Eddie added on. "Expand."

"Have you made much progress?" Mike reflected. 

"You know the answer to that." The brunette reflected back, staring unblinkingly at his Boss. "Can you explain why I feel like I'm getting stabbed randomly?"

Cupid winced, "Where did you say it hurts?"

"My gut." He repeated courteously. "It feels like I'm dying."

"Ah." Was the simple reply. "I'm sorry Eddie, but all I can recommend is that you get this job with quickly."

Stan stared at them then. "So he's just supposed to deal with the pain? Like it's nothing?"

Mike stared at Stan for a minute, completely taken-aback but the vicious response from the skewed lips, mystified before it all clicked and an understanding and sad smile graced their lips. "I know this is a sensitive topic for you, Stanley... Hows the healing?"

Without necessarily meaning to the Guardian and Cupid glanced down at Stanley Uris's wrist. Those scrawny wrists bandaged in white while, underneath the gauze, nothing but cats scratch laid. Eddie and Mike had different understandings and reasons for their looking at his wrists. Eddie barely scratched the surface that was Stanley Uris, all he knew was of his hurtful self-inflicted tendencies of the past. Mike knew, similar to what Eddie felt in his gut, Stan would often get a pricking and dull pain in his wrists, but for him, this was a phantom pain, a reenactment of his death that he couldn't help but relive over and over again with little relief. His pain was the reason they created the apocryphal. 

"Great." Stan spat out in spite, reconsidering his tone a second later. "Sorry, I just... Y'know, I just wanted to know if there was any way to stop it."

"You don't like aAphosylite." Mike hummed towards him. "So that's off the list."

"It's a drug."

"Of medicinal value."

"Undetermined medicinal value."

"It works," Stan interjected. "For me, at least."

"Not everyone's willing to accept foreign liquid from _them_." Eddie shot back, pointing his finger vaguely. "Not everyone's so far up _their_ ass-"

"I'd advise staying close to Richie Tozier," Mike interjected, palm raised. "He has a calming effect on you."

"Calming?"

"You slept next to him, rather peacefully."

"I was drunk and tired."

The two had a showdown with their eyes, one with unrelenting composure and the other with persistent perplexity. It was a silent disagreement they'd had many a time but the victor would always be the same. One was an almighty being, the other wasn't. Eddie was beginning to see a pattern. 

"Just," Mike starting, rubbing their lip contemplatively. "Focus on finding your target a lover, it'll be over before you know it."

"Yeah, I know." He mumbled. "I just don't want to push him into anything if he's not ready, mentally I mean."

Mike gave him a strange look, "Do you remember what I said about relating to your target... Is Bill Denbrough still around?"

"What?" Eddie reflected, surprised. 

"I just," They started, scratching their arm copiously. "I don't have to remind you that Guardian's aren't supposed to fall in love with their targets, right? And if they do they shouldn't act on it, I just-"

"You're sick," The Guardian said in disbelief, recoiling. "You really think I'd fall in love with... Just fall in love-"

"Moreover, Bill Denbrough," Stan commented dryly, lip raising in the common cross between disgust and humour. "Think you're selling him short a bit, Mike."

"I'm leaving, Jesus Christ."

Eddie was grumbling on his way out, waving his hands in a mental rant, frustrated, but the previous conversation was prickling. If the mere insinuation irked him then the fact he'd been so deflective, and calm about rejecting the idea irked him even more. By all known things about Eddie Kaspbrak there was every reason he should've, would've usually, blown up in his Boss' face in a fit of disgust and rage. 

Everything the three of them had just spoken about was circling around his mind mercilessly, determined. The pain he was feeling, finding a lover for his target, making sure his target didn't kill himself, Bill Denbrough... All of these issues were on a loop, and they were all that occupied his dreams last night. 

__________________________________

 

"You really need to ease up on yourself." Eddie found himself saying, a frown gracing his lips while he watched the other. "You don't have to keep up this wacky persona all the time... People like you without it."

He and Bill had just finished closing the cafe for the day and had headed down the road to collect their mutual annoyance and friend of sorts from his classes. While Bill had an off day he'd made it his mission to ensure his friend did actually reach the campus and not some cheap bar, or video game store and, miraculously, Richie had gone class. How did they know this? He would keep Bill posted on how much he wanted to leave every couple minutes into the day.  "He loves what he's studying, though. He adores being on stage, getting all that attention. He's just lazy,"

While it was certainly true regarding his physical health Eddie felt a pang in his head and heart, and strangely enough his gut while he sat across from Richie Tozier. Since arriving he'd been trying to squeeze in as many jokes as possible, despite how weary he sounded and the intense baggage he was carrying under his eyes. It was the humour of a comedian ran dry, who had wasted all his jokes over the years and was no left to confront it. An actor who had been too immersed in his character and now felt that he was no longer a person on his own. That was what Eddie felt when he looked at Richie Tozier and he hated it, hated how useless it made him feel in terms of fixing him. He was supposed to find the guy a lover, not a therapist... But what use was falling in love when he was like this?

Richie blinked at him, trying to articulate the intense feeling he harboured at that moment. "I don't know what you mean-"

He gave him a pointed look. 

"Sure you're not a therapist, Eds?" He chirped out. "Is there such thing as a sexy therapist? You could be the first-"

With a sigh the brunette let his head fall into his hands. "Do you like making my job harder?"

"I'd like to make you harder-"

"Finish that Goddamn sentence and I'll rip your spleen out." The Guardian seethed, his heart anywhere but in it at this point. "I just... It's unhealthy, you know."

"What would Doctor Eds recommend?"

There it was, that bristling chill and now the pain in his gut. 

"Don't call me, Eds I hate it." He prefaced first and foremost. "But there's a girl that I think matches you really well a little away from here, go up to here."

"Again with this?"

"It's why I'm here, Dick."

"Nicknames? My heart a-fluttering."

"Wish it wasn't."

"You really hate me that much?"

A note of sincerity was in that question. Eddie didn't like it. 

"Just go up to her," The Guardian hushed, pushing his target in way of the blonde girl. "She seems sweet."

Thankfully, without much coercion, he did indeed make his way over to the blonde but not without flashing another toothy grin at Eddie, this one different from every other one he'd seen. It was directed at him specifically and he didn't like that he couldn't decipher it. 

"Thanks for the pep talk, Eddie Spaghetti."

 _Alright._ Richie Tozier was still a pain in the ass.

And she was, her name was Kate and, much to Richie's surprise, she shared his love for Bioshock and all those other nerdy things. The smile that graced the Guardian's lips while watching this relationship was a proud one, it was proud but... Why did he feel a little sad watching it? Even if this one didn't work out he'd gotten a step closer to his goal and yet... He felt further away from Richie Tozier in that moment and he didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. A good thing, he forced himself to think, it meant he was nearly finished with the case that he'd wipe his hands clean of Richie Tozier, of his friend... Of this life. 

"Holy shi-shit." Bill murmured behind him, crossing his arms comfortably. "You're a matchmaker."

A snort escaped him, "I try."

The two friends sat away from the crowd peacefully, touching as little alcohol as possible in preparation for dragging Richie Tozier home while looking back to him, didn't seem to be much of a problem as he was more than enamoured with Kate. The Guardian and the writer bonded like they had all their other nights out, talking about anything and everything because that was the kind of profound connection they'd formed in their short time of knowing each other. Ranging from their trying job of being Richie's friend, to whether Stan had eased up on the other, to _what was his favourite_ colour _?_ It was blue. These twenty-four question games went back and forth for an hour or so before the two were doubled over in a laughing fit, an insane feat as their glasses were still half full. It was at this the Guardian once more, for the twelfth time since he'd met him, observed Bill Denbrough thoughtfully. He really couldn't put his finger on what the misplaced adoration that surfaced when looking at the other man was, why he felt so at ease around him. 

"How cuh-come you're not dating?" The red-head asked, drumming fingers on the table in a mimic tribute to _What I Am by Edie Brickell._  "You're smart."

"I don't know, just haven't seen anyone in the last few years." Eddie lied, making his fingers tap along before giving a wry smile. "But thanks for the brain compliment."

"Brains the seh-sexiest part of the bo-body," Bill told him, mimicking Richie's theatrically tone. 

"Oh, don't." The Guardian choked out. "You sound just like him."

"Some people like that." He shrugged."

"Well, I don't." The brunette responded truthfully, smiling. "I prefer Bill Denbrough, thanks."

A look flitted between the two of them.

Eddie didn't know quite what it was, maybe it was Mike's words echoing in his head. Or maybe it was all the stress of looking after a depressed man-child, or maybe just maybe he felt like it at that moment and it was enough. It had been years, he couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed someone, maybe it was the curiosity of what kissing someone actually felt like, as a reminder to why it was probably overrated. But for whatever one of these reasons it was Eddie found himself kissing Bill Denbrough.

 _Oh_ , Eddie couldn't help but think as the other's hand cupped his face,  _this was it._ It was pleasant, the warmth emitting from one mouth to another, for the first time in a while the Guardian felt connected to someone, but he also felt disconnected from where he actually was. It was the type of kiss that he'd felt before, the way the other's lips moulding reminding him of _someone_ , or something. They were familiar but at the same time they were a total stranger, it wasn't the type of kiss he'd been anticipating and Eddie wasn't quite sure what to do with that conclusion. It was decidedly rude to be analysing someone's technique or familiarity, so he brushed it aside knowing full well it would plague his mind. When he didn't think about it, just felt a warm mouth he supposed he could understand why someone would like to do it so often but at the same time he didn't feel any closer to understanding human fascination and it pained him to think maybe it really did depend on the person, maybe that was what was wrong with his bloody target-

"Big Bill-"

Breaking apart the two were met by their dearest annoyance, Kate by his side in her boyfriend jeans and tank, frizzy hair touching the bare strip above the other's collarbone. It was only after he pried his eyes open that Eddie looked up at Richie Tozier, and Kate. _Again. That look._ That inevitable and infuriating look that, at that moment, carried a pained flash. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. A wall closing off once more. 

A lot happened that Saturday night. Mike and Stanely Uris went birdwatching, hiding secret smiles and feelings that neither would ever bring up. Bev Marsh stayed home for an uncharacteristically early night, relaxing in her small apartment and a book in her lap, a picturesque beauty of a woman. Ben Hansom went out to by an engagement ring. And lastly, Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier all relived a part of their past they had no memory of, in one way or another. 

______________________________________

_**10 Years Ago** _

Eddie loved his friends, he really truly did. They did some really stupid shit sometimes but he did love them, he swore but... Sometimes it was difficult when they were full of such Goddamn stupid ideas. Sat there were six friends in the oh-so-familiar den of their leaders, a faint drift of whatever indie music was current, a spiral of smoke circling from the cigarette occupying two of their fingers, and drinks in everyone else's hand. Six friends on the edge of fifteen while the night teetered behind ten. It was perverse in a way, and Eddie had no doubt that his Mom would agree if she had the faintest idea how friendship and hanging out really worked. As far as Sonia Kaspbrak was concerned her son was at his best friend's house, in his pyjamas, watching PG-rated movies and baking cookies. Hell, Eddie kinda wished that was the case at that moment. 

 That red-headed boy who always had that beautiful big smile, who was always scribbling and couldn't seem to resist talking about how much he wants to be a writer, that boy who sometimes looked a little sad. And just like that, by befriending Bill he had gained another two friends, and before they knew it they became a six, instead of a four. But because of how natural it felt it was as if it had always been this way, always the six of them,

Eddie was usually, for the most part, all in for whatever crazy scheme or plan they had going on because that was the gig when you were as close as they were. He'd follow his friends anywhere, almost, but if there was one game he wasn't too eager to play it was the one awaiting him. It was simultaneously their safest and most dangerous game. It was the age-old game of Spin the Bottle and believe it or not, they were not all thirteen-year-old, hormonal girls. They were just a group of insanely tight-knit friends and, despite this, there was undoubtedly an air of bias and tension on who the bottle would land on. They were evenly divided in their feelings towards the bottle in the middle of the floor. On the _I don't really mind who I get_ team was Bev and Richie, who were already passing a chapstick between themselves in preparation. Eddie himself was stuck between Stan's team _I don't want to do this_ and Ben's _I hope I get one particular someone_. And their dear leader, Bill? Well, he was inscrutable for once in his Goddamn life, that common sunny smile plastered on his lips. That winning smile...

"This is stupid," Stan spoke out, looking at his hands interestedly. 

"I-" Ben started to agree but upon seeing Bev's frown stopped himself. "I think it'll be fun, we're all friends after all." 

"It was either this or strip poker," Bev said, expression totally blase. "But Richie said it was too much."

"Lies!" Her smoking-buddy shrieked. "I was all for strip poker but we didn't want to objectify Bevvie, did we?"

Bev made a sound of disgust in reply, silently saying she didn't care and truthfully, it wouldn't feel any different from one of them stripping if she did. Well, maybe for Ben because he really liked her, or for Stan who had an odd code of modesty. Richie, though wisecracking and inappropriate wouldn't have batted an eye at the sight, because despite his humour he wasn't lecherous. Far from it. Eddie wouldn't have felt anything watching a woman strip supposing it was Megan Fox, and Bill... Well, Eddie just didn't know about him. 

"Just get on with it." She replied, hunching her shoulders excitedly before reaching for the bottle and letting it whirl. "I swear if it's you, Trashmouth." 

"Eh? I'm a catch." He retorted, letting his eyes follow as well. "You know you can't resist my charm, babe."

The others rolled their eyes or, at least they were before the tense atmosphere caught as the bottle teetered between two people. Those two people? Eddie and Stan, neither who found themselves too panicked, Bev wouldn't be an asshole about it and they knew that it was part of why she was so damn lovable. She could be hard, and crude as any of the boys but she knew when to soften up or to cool it on the jokes. Sometimes Eddie thought somewhere, in an alternative universe, he would've liked to date someone like Bev. 

The bottle stopped. Stan. 

"Stan the man!" Richie whopped. 

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to." Ben blurted out to Bev, looking down in his lap a second later before backing to Stan. "I mean..."

"It's fine-"

Stan and Ben shared a complicated look filled with attempts to reason and gradual crumbling, with a sigh Stan nodded to their friend, agreeing to his desperate plead no matter how pointless it was. They were all soft for Ben in that way if he didn't want Stan to kiss Bev he wouldn't. 

"Sorry, Bev think I'll strip for this one." Stan excused, taking off one of his shoes. "Besides I have a cold."

"Duh-does this mean you'd rather sit out?" Bill asked their curly-haired friend. 

"Yeah," Stan murmured. "But don't worry I'll still be here making quips and judging you all." 

It was Eddie' turn next, it was but it didn't quite feel like it as Stan had to bump his shoulder to wake him up to actually spin it. While leaning over to reach the bottle he made fleeting eye contact with Richie who, contrary to the impish expression he was used to, was giving him a soft smile that Eddie couldn't decode. Maybe it was comfort, it probably was since... Well, he was pretty sure Richie was the only one who actually knew that he didn't like girls at all and, moreover, that he liked someone in this room who was indefinitely not Bev. The bottle spun with the unmeaningly harsh flick of his wrist, whirring like the moths that were currently eating him alive, like the throbbing sensation in his head at that moment. 

It stopped. Everyone's eyes followed. 

"Well ain't I just the luckiest girl in the world."

He tried not to show it but Eddie let out a sigh at that voice, that cocky and pitchy voice that had grated on him all these years. It was without breaking eye-contact with the glasses-adorning mantis that he pulled off his jumper, raising his eyebrows once he was finished. 

"Pass."

"Blasphemy! My lips are getting cold here!"

It was the theatric response he'd expected from Richie but... There was a flicker of something more meaningful in his eyes. Only Eddie didn't understand it at the time. How could a nearly-fifteen year old possibly understand anything?

The game went on for another hour or so as they were never a lack of jokes, dry of obnoxious, It was eleven by they declared that this spin would be one of the last of the night and, of course, who's turn was it but Eddie. Rubbing his now-colder arms jerkingly he leaned in to spin the glass, taking a too detailed note of the fragments of light that glinted off it and the clanking sound it made while it slowed. It could be any one of them, it could be Richie again in which case he'd take his socks off, it could be Bev where he would feel more than comfortable completing the challenge. There was a fair chance of it being anyone and yet his gaze kept flickering to Bill and sure enough... The bottle stopped. 

It was Bill Denbrough. He was going to have to kiss his best friend, the boy he'd been so confused about as a self-loathing twelve-year-old the boy that- Eddie's heart was contracting, his cheeks more than a dusty pink before his eyes flashed to Richie's urgently. He didn't know quite what he was trying to say but Bill looking at him certainly didn't improve the situation. 

"Unlucky, Eh-Eds." Bill laughed out. "Sorry, it isn't Bev or something."

I don't want it to be Bev, I want you to not take this as a joke Eddie thought desperately. 

"Sure you don't want me to take your shot, Big Bill?" Richie called out, glancing to him. "Since you-"

Their leader frowned, "It's fine."

Oh _Lord_ , he wanted to hide at that moment. Sparing Richie one last glance he simply shook his head when the curly-haired boy opened his mouth again. He wasn't going to be able to save him in this case but that didn't stop the brunette from looking around at his friends who, for the most part, didn't sense the dread in expression... Well, all except Bev whose expression was now changed, wide pretty eyes looking at Eddie in surprise before empathy. 

"Maybe you should-"

"I'm noh-not a coward, guys." Bill protested

"You don't mind, right-right Eds?" His best friend asked sunnily. "It's just a game."

 _Yes, I do mind._ I _mind_ because this is going to _destroy me_ and because you're probably think nothing of it but it'll mean the world to me. Because that's what this came was supposed to me, friends being intimate like the platonic soulmates they all deemed each other as. This wasn't supposed to happen. 

"It's fine."

And there it was, the tickling of fine strands of hair against his bronzed cheek, a mouth inexperienced and intrigued. 

The last thing Eddie saw that night was the unfamiliar and frightening stricken expression on Richie Tozier's face, and the firm set of his mouth that wouldn't make any more jokes the rest of the night. But none of this really registered that night, all young Eddie Kaspbrak felt that night was humiliated. Humiliated and strangely elevated. 


	12. The Table

_**One Week Later**_

"Your advice sucked, Mike-"

The rest of Eddie's words died on his lips upon bustling into his Boss' office, a sight peculiar and spectacular in front on him. Instead of the pastel nightmare Mike's office usually was, the scene greeting him was a fresh and scenic garden of green, lotus blossoms blooming and birds chirping. If he hadn't experienced it once before then the Guardian would've been disoriented but he knew exactly what it was, this was Stanley Uris's idea of peace, as handcrafted by the powerful and supernatural inner working of Mike Hanlon's mind. In reality, the three of them were still in the spacious office but you never could've guessed it, that was the magic of it. Sitting near a waterfall, shoulders pressed together tightly and heads bent and meeting, dark locks blending with sandy waves. The two were focused on the cupping of the being's hands which, as Eddie drew closer, contained a tiny bird. Sweet pink underbelly moving up and down as it drew breathe, tiny shiny eyes observing the two's intent and adoring looks. Despite his intention of being here, the brunette couldn't help but smile because even if this was Stan's land of peace Mike clearly felt at ease, even if the power it took to create this place was draining them, they were the type of being to gained substance from other people's joy and wonder. 

It was because so much of their energy was focused on Stan that neither of them really noticed Eddie until he was crouched in front of them, frustration clear. "I really don't want to interrupt your couple time but I have a complaint."

Mike looked down at him first, a frown flitting on their face before fluttering back to Stan's still visible smile, "Can it really not wait, Stan-"

"It's fine," Stan dismissed, finally looking up from the bird, the peace still serene on his usually hardened features, "Besides, I can tell how much energy I'm sucking out of you. Thank you though I really appreciated this...Mike."

It was in moments like these, where he was genuinely happy, that Eddie couldn't help but feel a genuine fondness and concern for his friend. If this was the only place his friend felt at all peaceful how did he cope on Earth? Eddie knew Stan had bad memories, things he'd rather forget but he was so hushed about them it was easy to brush off sometimes. This wasn't one of those times, he felt a nipping guilt at having to interrupt the two's moment at that moment. 

"What's the problem?" Mike asked, eyeing him. "You didn't kill Tozier, did you?"

"No," He replied with overexaggerated courtesy, raising one adhesive brow. "But I do think I'm onto something with his recent match, she's pretty cute."

"But does she match his personality?" They tried, a challenging smile flitting about their lips. 

"Yeah, pretty well." Eddie bit back, chewing his lip as he beat around the bush to why he was actually here. "They should be on a date right about now."

"Then I don't see a problem."

There was the briefest of pauses while the two regarded each other, one with lurking hesitance and the other with knowing superiority. It would always be unbalanced between them, a sense that their lives should've never collided. Hell, by all know rules of life Eddie should've been dead long ago, but he wasn't and he didn't know anything about that. The silence was excruciating, for who was unsure but eventually, the brunette found himself unable to stop the question firing out of this mouth, skittish and brash,

"How do I know if my job is done?"

"You'll know." 

I'll-

His phone buzzed.

"Hello?"

"Eddie? It's-  _God_ , Bill  _shut the fuck up_ , for one second. No,  _no_  I love you but please shut up. Hey, it's Bev."

Without thinking about it a smile worked its way onto the Guardians face as he leaned against the wall, tucking the phone under his ear in preparation for what else the woman had to say and seemingly forgetting Mike's petulant and, probably, smug gaze. It was just the unnatural way Bev's voice worked, making it seem as if they'd been friends for years as not to make him feel like less of the friend group. How she stayed friends with Richie for so long was something the Guardian often asked himself.

"Hi,"

"You free right now? We could use your help."

"Sure, what's up?"

"I'll send you the address."

Bev did, indeed, send him the address and it was to some little restaurant that, sure enough, they were all seated at a four-chair table awaiting him with open intrigue and relief. His farewell to Cupid had been him promising to return later with another rant but a quiet admission that he'd try hard to interrupt their and Stan's time when he next needed help. Eddie had been persistent in saying Stan should come with him, that he and Bev got along like a house on fire and that there'd be free food, this was not enough to tempt Stan Uris when the likes of Bill was there because while he'd been off taking care of his target Stan was having immense trouble commandeering a clumsy Bill in the cafe. The casualty being eleven chipped cups, two shattered plates and over fifteen messed-up orders that were sure to be piling on. So no, his friend did not want to accompany them on their mission. The first ten minutes of conversation was filled with wisecracks and getting comfortable, well as comfortable as Eddie could be around the guy he'd kissed while drunk who, thankfully from the looks of it, didn't really think much of the incident or was an actor in the making. It was so easy in times like these to forget why he was here, on Earth and that these were not friends he'd grown up with, nor were they generally his  _friends_  but... He could pretend. It was childish and a little sad but it was a coping mechanism in its own right, for what little of his childhood he remembered Eddie felt like he was gaining it by sitting here among such agreeable people. It was only when Ben nudged here did Bev finally tell him why they were all there, seated in the quietest and darkest part of the establishment and watching the door every few minutes, allowing breathe when no one of notice entered.

"Our Richard," She started dramatically, with an elongated sigh. No wonder her and Richie were friends. "will be showing up here in a couple minutes, with Kate."

"Buh-but they don't know we'll be here," Bill added.

"Bev doesn't trust Kate." Ben finished. 

"It's  _not_  that!" the red-head denied. "I just want to make sure she's a good person, and you know there's no way Richie would let us meet her unless they were getting married, or just fucking."

"She's pah-paranoid." Bill excused, rubbing his thumb over the laminated menu. "Tell her she's being crazy, Eddie."

"I-" The brunette looked from Bill to Bev, and back. "I think it's sweet that you're worried for him."

" _Thank you_ ," Bev exhaled, regarding him gratefully before that infectious smile took out her face, crinkling her nose. "I think you're slowly becoming my favourite, Eddie..."

"Kaspbrak." he finished for her with an equal grin. "And I could say the same for you."

And he meant it, no matter how much of a pain in the ass this case was he was glad to have met people like Bev, who when she met people she clicked with, didn't question it and instead acted as if it was completely normal. In short, Beverly Marsh was the type of woman or girl Sonia Kaspbrak would've hated and a small, childish and rebellious part of Eddie's heart adored that, how unashamedly herself Bev was. He also loved the other two at the table but after spending a fair while with all free of them it really was a strange truth that he liked Bev best. While he loved cracking jokes with Bill the guy could  _talk_ , and not in the obnoxious and thinks-he's-hilarious way Richie could, Bill was filled to the brim with longwinded speeches about things no one,  _literally_ , no one, except him really wanted to know or hear about. It was endearing, in a child that is, Bill didn't have a filter at times. Ben... Well, Ben made jokes and snippets when the moment required him and that was what led Eddie to truly like Ben because he didn't come across as the type of person he was and didn't try to put up a front, none of them did but there was an air of toughness in him that the Guardian found both startling and amusing. What an odd bunch they were. 

"There they are!" Ben whisper-shouted to them. " _Look_."

Surely enough the three did look and it was when they did it struck Eddie how stupid this whole thing was, however, the idiotic realization wasn't enough to pry his eyes away as he joined Bill in debating who would end up paying for the meal. Both of their points were valid and while Bill had known the other the longest, and been with him through most of his life the Guardian wanted to pride himself on the intensive research and analysis that went into those sleepless nights thinking about his target. Whoever was right would get ten dollars at the end of the night. She was Kate that is, every bit as charming and quirky as Eddie remembered her which served well as she and his target would never run out of things to talk about. For once in his Goddamn life, Richie Tozier was wearing decent jeans and a clean shirt, while this still contrasted with the practised casual look of the girl they  _looked good_   _together_. Unlike the greasy stoner vibe his target still, some-fucking-how managed to give off Kate was a clean-cut, natural beauty in skinnies and a sweater, blonde beach waves barely passing her shoulders. They were different, but they  _worked_. Eddie was proud of his work. While he was being smug Ben was building a tower out of breadsticks and Bev was keenly observing Kate's body language and the way they were talking because, while they were dangerously close to the couple, their hearing would at times be obscured by the bustling of waiters. 

"Oh my god," said Bev, letting a half-eaten breadstick fall from her mouth. "She's a fucking nerd."

It was clear they weren't going to last here without food so, taking in the risk of being discovered, Ben called a waiter over, rather than Bev, whose voice would carry over too easily or Bill, whose stutter was far too distinct. Doing his own spot of observation Eddie couldn't help but grow confused at the lack of skinship between the two, all that had transpired was a chaste kiss on the lips and the fiddling of fingers. Not exactly what you would call romantic but, then again in Eddie's world romance was long dead. 

"You mean Eds?"

At the same time his head snapped up the other three glanced over from him to the couple's table in surprise, none of them expected to hear that. However, the lanky man's gaze hadn't swivelled to their table once and instead he was now turned fully to Kate, talking animatedly and waving his hands to communicate his message, curls bouncing as he did so. This message that involved Eddie was the reply to Kate asking, _who was that guy with you when we met?_  Thinking this conversational topic would blow over within two minutes he brushed it off but...

"You should meet him properly, you'd really like him. All my friends really like him, and my friends have great taste. I mean they're friends with  _me_!"

" _God_ ," Bev, Bill and Ben all groaned. 

The four of them continued to eavesdrop, mostly picking up the regular type of things like them getting to know each other better and when they should go out next only, as they were finishing their food, there was an alteration in mood as Kate went to move her hand over to the other's thigh, his leg jerked back, what seemed an unconscious habit was solidified by his confused expression. From where he was sat the four of them tried to read the look that appeared on his face, a mixture of shock, surprise and scarce fright. It didn't make sense. 

"Did I do something wrong?" Kate blundered, cheeks rising in colour, visible even from where they sat.

"Oh, no, Nah," Richie replied, waving his hand dismissively before forcibly jerking his shoulders up. "I just...Uh...Well, you see, I'm waiting for marriage."

" _What type of bullshi_ t-" Bev's voice cut through the sudden silence of the restaurant, like the thud of a bible in a church. 

"Huh?"

Oh, they were screwed, only Eddie's brain was clogging at that moment and the only thing his mind was producing being; _shitshitshitshit_ , he didn't exactly see the other three dive under the table to hide without him and, in doing so, they shielded themself from Richie's general line of vision. You'd think they were used to it as all he could see was the nape of their necks and they held their breaths, thankful that they ducked and, hopefully, maybe a little guilty for not bothering to tell Eddie of this course of action.

"You  _pussies."_  Eddie hissed to the cowering bodies under the table. "I can't believe it."

"A female body part shouldn't be used as a derogatory-"

Bev was cut off.

"Eds?"

Fuck this. 

"Oh, hey there?"

The confusion on his target's face was quickly morphing into some form of agitation that Eddie wasn't particularly fond to be on the receiving end of at that moment. He didn't know what to do with his arms so he just stared back at him, trying to ignore the concerned little glances Kate was given as, by this point, the praise Richie had given him and his friends were going out the window. 

"What're you doing here?" The other man asked, brows lining together.

"Oh, I was just out with," His face grew hot at the lie, staring at the three plates. "My three imaginary friends."

He was sure his face was going to implode at the heat but upon noticing the three plates something in his target's jaw ticked and he folded his arms before heaving a mix of a sigh and a word in his throat that sounded a lot like the start of _fuck you guys_ but it never came. Instead, he turned on his heal and made an exit, tugging Kate who, clearly not appreciating it, moved her arm back to wave a goodbye to the Guardian and an apologetic smile. She _was_ a good person, Eddie found and then in the same vein, too good for Richie. The three under the table did eventually resurface sheepishly, Bev had to dust off her gingham trousers and dust-ridden hair, Bill and Ben giving an apology for not warning him beforehand while Bev, ever the blunt one, said it made their _mission_ exciting and walked out of the place with a smile. On their parting Eddie stopped outside his target's apartment, he knew he had to go in and check how the date went, even if he was there because that was his job... And he was slightly worried. With haltering steps he entered the apartment, greeted by the sight of only Richie, leaning against the kitchen counter with a clear orange capsule in front of him, accompanied by a mug that, he was sure, didn't have a mug beverage inhabiting it. 

"Is everything ok with Kate? Did she-" Eddie started.

"No, everything's going _swimmingly_."

"Richie-"

"Do you not trust me enough to go on a date?"

"Are you really upset about _that_?"

"Am I that much of a fuck-up that I can't even... I know it was Bev's idea but why did _you_ go?"

"It's my job, to make sure you don't-"

"Screw myself over?"

"Yes! Why is it so difficult to accept help?"

Eddie felt like his head was spinning, in this one exchange he felt all the progress churning inside his stomach while the bottle in Richie's hand got lifted again, he vaguely registered the sloshing going passed chapped lips. He stared him down for a while, trying to decipher what was going on in his head but that, evidently, was a mad idea as something flared in the other's eyes at that. What had happened in between the restaurant and coming home? 

"You don't understand _anything_."

"Then _explain_ it."

 

"All I can remember is that one person I lost all those years ago." He spat out. "You have no idea how it feels to feel as there's a fucking gap in your life, it's like something died and I... I can't even remember their Goddamned face! I don't remember their name or face and still this guy fucking haunts me every single night when I try and fall asleep, taunting me with whatever future I was supposed to have. And then you come in and tell me to date people seriously like it's _that_ easy."

"I-"

"So excuse me if I don't want _Dr Ed's_ help!" He finally snapped.

Eddie couldn't help but recoil at that and, he hated himself for it, but the other saw this and slackened in his scarce stance letting his shoulders hunch in predetermined defeat. His eyes closed, veins in his neck retreating. And then Richie Tozier let himself falter, let his heavy head collapse and fall onto the shorter man's shoulder in both surrender and exhaustion. He could feel his breath fanning out onto his neck, tickling the stray hairs there and heating the patch of skin there and, Eddie knew if he had been built even a little less sturdy he would've collapsed himself under the pressure. It was then Eddie strangely felt it, that side-effect of your parents never training you for the harsh world, of tears coming too easily. Eddie Kaspbrak was not a crier but at that one moment he felt like he could be, he wouldn't cry for himself though it would be because of the man on his shoulders, but not because of him, for him. The breaking of his rant had been sudden, like when a dam that was happily in place just broke free, violet and crashing in the waves, unaware of the disappointment it had just caused to those who had worked so hard on it. 

"I'm... Sorry." He breathed out. 

"No," Eddie forced himself to get out, staying in the same position so his head could rest there. "I shouldn't pry."

The two stood there for a good couple minutes until it turned back to normal, till time felt real again and they adjusted to what had just happened. From the way he kept his head there Eddie guessed that it wouldn't be a good idea to treat him like someone who just had a breakdown or someone who had just damn near cried on his shoulder. That wasn't them, they weren't close enough to talk over everything that had happened, didn't want to be vulnerable when all their relationship was, was Eddie trying to fix him. That was what hit the nail on the head, it was his job to fix him and that was something that could rarely be forgotten. 

"You've been a lot nicer to me, lately."

"You too, since you started..."

"Since I had my breakdown?"

"I was going to say since you started dating Kate, but sure."

A snort came in reply.

There was another extended silence before Richie pulled himself off Eddie's low shoulders, letting his back creek anciently as he did so with eyes that contained pain that was ancient in their own right, searching his face for some form of reason. The Guardian didn't know how long he stood there, letting his target register what he was feeling and pick apart the emotion his face betrayed. He felt soft at that moment, the brunette realized, like his face might be showcasing some version of himself he didn't quite know or want to do but that... That was to be picked apart another time because, without so much as a warning, Richie Tozier exhaustedly collapsed back onto his shoulders with his full weight. Struggling to prop him up he merely stumbled to the couch till they had something to fall back on. 

"Why can't you make my job a little easier?" Eddie all but groaned under the weight. "For once act like a normal guy."

"I made a promise." He yawned around his arm, "I told you I wouldn't make an easy job, Eddie Spaghetti."

"You're more like impossible, Dick." The Guardian retorted, giving the last word a double meaning of the curse and the man's actual name. _Richard._

"What did you just call me?" He demanded incredulously, eyes bugging out. "A curse from _that_ pretty mouth?"

"Richard." The brunette said cooly. "I called you Richard."

Surprisingly, or rather unsurprisingly for him, he sprouted a full grin, "I love nicknames."

They went back and forth like that for the rest of night, bickering like two old ladies who lived their life together and planned to end it that way. Two men that by all means should've been at each other's throats by this point, ready to murder one another but instead, were peculiarly bonding over music. For the third time since working over him, Eddie Kaspbrak started to genuinely more-than-tolerate Richie Tozier, and he couldn't tell whether that was a good thing.

That night in the Guardian dorms, while most of his colleagues were bustling with the gossip from their different cases Eddie found it difficult to even keep up a conversation with Stan who, from the sounds of it, was planning to adopt a bird and it was now his only reason to live. Eddie didn't doubt his friend when he said this. The dorms weren't completely unpleasant, while the walls were an obnoxiously childish mime of a nursery room and the scent of carnations, even after months there, could get intoxicating, but that was about it. The pros were that there was a comfy bed, moderately okay company and, well, no Richie Tozier. That night Eddie fell asleep first out of the eight Guardians occupying the room, and as his eyes shuttered closed he was sucked into a place he found vaguely familiar. A street, in the middle of the night, fierce ran beating the ground while cars, hundred of them zipped passed mercilessly. 

It was with frightening surreality Eddie realized it felt like he was there like he was seeing the world through someone else's eyes, someone else's body was walking in the street. This other body who stood on the pavement scanning to streets only to land on one, shivering, clattering noodle of a man. Standing right next to him, though not him-him, was Richie Tozier sporting a soaked Metallica shirt, lips set in a firm line and eyes determined. This Richie made his way towards the road, paying no head to the vicious vehicles who couldn't care less about him. _No_ , Eddie couldn't help but think, you _idiot_ don't walk into the middle of the road. But by the time he opened his eyes, Eddie already knew what was going to happen, sometimes, very rarely, when making a connection with a target Guardian's would get a sub-conscious alert at what they were doing. This was no dream, this was a vision of the future following minutes, and in it he saw Richie Tozier, walking in the middle of the street. His eyes blasted open just in time, just as a car skimmed-

_No._


	13. Emergency Contacts and Big Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh well, wow. I have been neglecting this fic for a few weeks and... I have no excuses, I am now on holiday so I will indefinitely have more free time! Like always, as an apology, this chapter is a little longer as to make up for the lack of updates. The next one will be up late this week/early next week. :)

He was gliding through the air, going a mile a minute with a head-on backwards that even in his sense of urgency was devoid of any literate forming of a sentence, of a plan.  Only a minute or so ago he had been dreaming, prophesizing, predicting, whatever you wanted to call it and now his previously bleary vision was sharp as a hawk and he was trying to stop Richie Tozier from getting hit by a damned car. The Guardian's body didn't weigh anything at that moment, his bones felt condensed and soft and the only suggestion that he was, in fact, awake was the tears streaming from his eyes in flight. 

They tumbled and they blundered and their limbs warped with the sudden impact. Eddie could barely feel a bone in his body when he dove for Richie and even as he skidded across the gravel tangled with his target there was a vague sense of his own body not really mattering, that he needn't bother registering whether the tumble had done any real damage when there was him, lying beneath him with his teeth bared breath ragged and wild eyes. When the Guardian said he hadn't taken his actions into account he meant it as there was only a dull pain in his calf and right forearm as he braced himself above Richie, painstakingly cautious to not put pressure on him, all while teetering on the edge of snapping. In the course of knocking him out of the way his own leg made a thwack against the front of the car, and the force pushed out through the pain was strong as when Richie dropped to the pavement with him there was a thud, and then a slight snap. In trying to cradle and protect the lanky body from sustaining any damage Eddie had lost grip on the back of his head and he was slowly rising to mild hysteria in the worry that the other's head hit the pavement too hard. 

"You fucking idiot!"

Beneath him was his target, Richie Tozier.

"Eds-"

"Don't you..." He trailed off as his eyes doubled to saucer plates, witnessing a slim trickle of blood drip from the other's forehead, careful like the condensation of the morning on his faulty windows.  

Whatever profanity was yearning to leak from his lips at that moment was lapped up by the eery silence around them, the straight line of Richie's overwise crudely twisting mouth, it was all too much in the hushed way delving into the waves might be. Submerged everything is serene, quiet, and yet only once you return to the air do you realize just how loud your surroundings were, how desperately you needed air. This was how Eddie felt awakening from his furious trance, and as he stared down at the lanky body with quivering lips, strangely enough, he did feel his breath catch, as if he was underwater. But this gasp was accompanied by the stabbing sensation in his gut and a mock-rewinding of a tape in his brain, in which he saw a flickering of a similar scenario, only with circumstances and fatality differing. 

It wouldn't do him any good to dwell on it, although it was inevitable he would, so he focused back on checking on the man beneath him who now, he thought he was safe to assume, seemed to be halfway out as his eyelids drooped and the only physical movement was pained twitching and a new frown that seemed permanent in its power. Moving up to a sitting position Eddie experienced his own discomfort as his shoulder silently screeched when he tried to roll it backwards, tonight was just going magnificently. On any other night, any other circumstance that didn't involve him having plummeted to Earth to aid an idiot the Guardian may have considered spreading his wings and flying with him to the hospital, as a more efficient mode of transportations, that is, but there was no way on God's green Earth that he was going to fly half-asleep, mid panic-attack, and with a possibly dislocated shoulder. No, it wasn't possible, all he could do was get him into a cab and to the hospital as quick as he could, which for some miraculous reason wasn't the cat and mouse game it was most nights. A cab stopped for them. 

They hadn't been in a couple seconds, only a millisecond after Eddie directed him to the hospital, that the driver looked back at the blood leaking from Richie and crinkled his nose, muttering something in a language they didn't understand under his breathe

"Don't worry, he hasn't started decomposing yet," Eddie couldn't help but comment, meeting the driver's gaze icily.

"Didn't say anything," The cab driver muttered. 

"Yeah well, it was implied," He couldn't help but snap back, making sure to consistently jostle Richie just to be sure he wasn't dead.

It was only as he jostled him this third time that he accidentally found himself cupping the back of his target's disgustingly matted hair which, due to who he was dealing with, the Guardian was prepared to brush it off as his lack of hygiene and distaste for showering but he quickly remembered that Richie had actually made an effort in the hair department for the date with Kate. Pulling his hand back, prepared to wipe it on his trousers Eddie's breath hitched in, what he was now deeming, a  start of a panic attack. His hand was coated in thick, sticky and slaveringly warm blood that he couldn't quite bring himself to look at fully as his hands started to shake and he felt his throat constrict in the way it hadn't in years, it wasn't like the usual germophobia or hayfever this was someone's blood on his hand. Richie wasn't just bleeding from the front the back of his head was... He might need stitches... They were still so far away. The blood in his own body was pounding in his ears, his heart going a mile a minute in a jig he was too tired to dance that night, his eyes were getting teary and by this point, he could actually feel sick threatening to rise in his throat. 

"Eds? Hey, hey. Eds."

The voice rasped out in his direction, spindly hand clawing his sleeve in an attempt to get his attention. It was with mistaken urgency Eddie turned, trying to do something, anything, to stop his accelerating heart rate and the fierce stomp that felt like troops marching on his brain. It wasn't something you could just wish away, he knew that, he'd always known that but growing up he'd always had someone, his mom, his friends. Sonia Kaspbrak had been there for the worst of it and now he couldn't help but feel he'd rather have been alone, he'd always had something to anchor him back down to land and now he had nothing. 

"Breathe."

He couldn't help but shoot a half-assed but murderous look at his target which, naturally due to the man's actual condition, would make him feel shit later, you know later when he could actually fucking breathe and focus on anything else. But for now, his whole body was made up of anxiety. Without thinking the brunette clutched at the crumpled fabric of the other's skinny, but baggy on him, jeans in some attempt to slow his breathing but, surprise, it didn't work. While closing his eyes in a doubled attempts his fingers were prized away from the fabric and taken into long, bony hands with rough callouses from who-knows-what rubbing into the top of his own hand. 

"It's all good, everything's fine." Richie soothed, voice barely audible for a change as he winced at his own effort, resisting what must've been the urge to double up in pain himself. 

"Hh-"

"Eds, calm your tits," Came the raspy response, although that wise-crack grin was ruined by a now slightly chipped tooth. "Seriously though, it's not that bad, please. Jesus fu-"

His target broke into a worrying spurt of hacking that wracked his thin body, no doubt threatening to release more red fluid and while this was beyond alarming all the while it happened he never let go of his hand. Never stopped rubbing circles in a dedicated and simple pattern, patting his fingers to the beat of....Was that _Cornflake Girl by Tori Amos?_

" _She's gone to the over side, givin' us the old heave ho_..." The injured, well the more injured, muttered with the last of his willpower.

By some miracle, and a combination of a surprisingly gentle hand massage and raspy rendition of an eighties classic Eddie felt his breath slowly but surely splutter to what would be deemed not fatal for his health. It was the last few patterns that really led him to let his eyes open, force down the bile that had risen during the episode and carefully pull his hand from the other. Looking to Richie it was with more than a little guilt he noted that his skin had lost more of his colour in helping him calm down, his breathing now a little more laboured and jaw a little tighter. He looked shit but he had a certain look in his eyes again that Eddie was terrified and confused by. 

"We doing o-", cough, "Okay now?"

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie could all but pant out, "You're bleeding out of your head."

"Eh," He started, visibly straining himself to even get that out. 

"No," The Guardian said firmly, gripping the other's arm. "I genuinely mean shut the fuck up, it isn't good for you in this condition."

Staring at the mop of dark, unruly hair beside him the Guardian swallowed the emotions he felt, knowing to analyze them would clog his ability to make decisions and protect the man. But even so Eddie was an overthinker, it was just how he was and it would be a lie if Ben's tendency to cluck over the smallest thing wasn't rubbing off on him. Only this wasn't the smallest thing, if he had been a minute late this whole night could've ended differently and he knew, in whatever part of him, that it would've been more than failing his mission that would sting. Eddie didn't want Richie Tozier to die, and he wouldn't even contemplate what he would've done if he had died. Another thing he wouldn't contemplate? Why Richie had even been out there, with a t-shirt in the freezing weather, waiting for some cursed car to run him over, or for lightning to strike, he couldn't let himself believe things had gone that badly with Kate after Eddie, Bill, Bev and Ben ambushed them, not enough to drive him to be, from what he could tell, drunk and craving a near-death experience. No, this couldn't be his fault because... Because just a couple hours ago they had gotten into a fight and ended up having the strangest bonding moment spawning out of it, not after that normal, civil interaction could Richie have decided to end his life. But, why? That was the question that plagued his mind when he hailed the cab, when he dragged his target along with him by his own smaller body, balancing him on his broad shoulders, this was the question that plagued him when he took him to the hospital and dumped him in a chair trying to call attention to him. 

Spotting a nurse a little away he stood to move,

"No doctors." 

"Rich, you need a doctor."

The taste of the nickname was foreign, and a little unwelcome if he was honest but the reaction it evoked was inhuman. The other's eyes flashed open malevolently at the nickname, searching his face analytically before slumping back down in his chair and groaning, the pressure of such a focused task too taxing on his weak, and banged up body.  Just like that a plump, bespeckled nurse hooked her arm around Richie's and tugged him to the elevator at the end of the corridor, leaving Eddie with his lip between his teeth and his eyes roaming. 

 

**20 Mins Later**

He was sure the dreaded corridor was cursed.  There was a handful occupying the same deathly, cursed hall and it seemed a warped version of groundhog day in which a couple hours spun into days, all reliving the same incident or trauma. Down the corridor, two men were hunched in the paint-peeling metal chairs, heads in hands and eyebrows drawn. In front of him was a woman who had been pacing the corridor for, as far as he knew, over an hour in an anxious and restless quest for peace of mind, flipflop adorning feet slapping rhythmically,  chapped lips following the pattern with curses and doubtful pleads for divine intervention. They were different people, however, they were similar in the vain that they were both dealing with stress, or fear, or anxiety in some way or another. 

And there Eddie Kaspbrak sat, in the mute and decomposing hospital corridor. Knowing his hatred for filth Eddie was no different in terms of coping with anxiety, and although he was obnoxiously aware of the harm and infection he was opening his body to by biting his nails he couldn't stop. The fear of dirt was taking a backseat to the fact he was in a hospital, to the fact he was awaiting an update on Richie Tozier and his big bleeding head, his crooked leg and well... His mental state. 

He knew it was time to call the others. 

 

**The Same Night, Cupid's Office**

"You've remembered?" 

The night was a relatively calm one, in the Guardian's realm, at least. It was a rare occurrence for it to be anything short of serene here, a perk of having an omnipotent deity with a high affinity for peace and love reign over the establishment. Mike was certainly an upgrade from the previous tyrannical Cupid of all those, hundreds of decades ago but it wouldn't be completely accurate to call them perfect, although in Stan's, and a lot of other Guardian's eyes, they were that and more. No, just like others Mike could lie, although they'd always say it was for the best which, usually, it was but... Well, it would depend on who you asked but in Stan's eyes at present he wasn't sure how to react. 

"Always had an inkling." Stan murmured, glancing at his forearms. "I understand on my part, and I think you did the right thing... If I had all my memories, all the feelings from my life on Earth it would've been much the same."

Cupid turned then. 

"Only I would be stuck in an eternal, immortal loop of trying to off myself," Stan finished bleakly, never moving his eyes. 

"Yes, you would've," They returned, moving forward. "I am glad you understand though, Stanley-"

Just a couple hours ago Stan had remembered how he ended up here and under what circumstances. He remembered having friends, five of them and they were inseparable, he knew that one of them was called Eddie Kaspbrak and that one year, the year they were all planning on heading to college, Eddie Kaspbrak had been jumped in an alleyway and died. He now knew that this Eddie Kaspbrak was the same one he shared a dorm with, and who teased him about a crush on the being in front of him and who worked with him in the coffee shop, always walking in with a glow around him as if the very sun chose him as a vessel. 

"But," Mike carried on.

"Yeah?"

"There are precautions if a Guardian gets their memories back."

"What is it?"

"..."

"Mike."

The being bit their soft, pink lip before releasing it and exposing raw and chewed out skin. Stan would never have used small, or weak to describe Mike Hanlon but at that moment they seemed both of those things as if they were tiptoeing around the splintered glass. Their body, if it could be called that, seemed to lose the glow, and once-proud high shoulders seemed to slump in an almost human way like Mike was genuinely scared of the answer. While this sight provoked impatience and confusion in him Stan felt  the most peculiar surge of adoration in his chest at the human display of worry, it was nice to pretend sometimes, that they weren't a powerful deity and him their assistant, that there was some far-fetched reality where they were both human and, even then, a stretch to where Mike may even be capable or considering of his feeling for them. This fantasy, however, was splintered by the twitching of Cupid's right eye, the tremble of their lower lip. They opened their mouth slightly,

"If you want to keep your memories you just gained..." Mike started, hands clenched in fists, "I will no longer be able to host you as a Guardian, I will have no other choice than to send you on your way, to the real afterlife."

Stan couldn't help but blink at that, how many times over the years had he dreamt of an escape, of what comes after death? The answer was more times than he could count because even in his early teen years the ever pessimistic, and unstable boy couldn't help but yearn for a chink in the heavy, and overbearing armour of life, a calm in the calamity or even a moment to breathe when he was alone. All those times he'd left his friend's house, Bill's house, who even then was annoying, and arrived home to be alone with his thought only to hate himself all the more for it. This afterlife, the idea of peace... It had been his sole vacation spot for as long as he could, now remember. He was failing to see why Mike was so anxious about it all, surely they wanted this for him too. 

"What's... What's the problem?"

Again with the eye twitch. 

"It's not my place to have feelings on your departure, Stanley."

They locked eyes. Mike's was one of lost composure and, well, as close to sadness as a mighty being could get whereas Stan, ever the poker-face was having trouble hiding the fact his heart plummeted because he knew, he really knew that in the end, it would be up to him, Mike would never force anything upon him and while he'd always been grateful for that, at that moment Stan wished they were more forceful. More concrete and real in their emotions, to expose themselves to the same nakedness Stan felt whenever he was honest, or serious. It felt utterly unfair at that moment. 

"You know if you-"

"Stanley, please," 

"Mike, I-"

_**"Mr Uris."** _

Stan had never been good at making decisions or hiding his feelings in times of true urgency and these two faults were shining through him like the moonlight through the blinds. His rigid posture betrayed him more than anything else, he wouldn't cry in front of someone who barely understood humans, who was calculating and- not at all any of those things. Staring at Mike and thinking those things were impossible because with one look they were deflecting them, showing real compassion and real love that he couldn't ignore. Taking a shuddering breath the wavy-haired man took two steps closer to them, so they were almost eye to eye. Stan rarely produced long sentences and when he did it was drunk, and ranting to Eddie but this situation warranted it, him being upfront and clear. 

"I want your honesty," He told them, arms crossed loosely. "It's the least you can do after wiping my memories."

"You don't mean-" They stopped, rubbing their finger and their thumb together hastily. "I can't say anything that would impair your judgement."

"Do you realize how hard it is for me to be talking to you like this?" Stan asked him, earnest and true. "It isn't easy, it isn't easy because I've gotten to experience life without the pain and yes, I also missed out on things, like how Eddie was really my best friend but... You underestimate the role you have in my decision."

"So please," His hand thudded against their chest restlessly, staying there decidedly. "I'm asking one last time, do you _want_ me to go?"

"Of course not. I just want your happiness."

"You have it, right here."

In the exchange of these words, this confirmation, the Guardian had jerked the final step closer. Close enough that he was sure they could hear his heart thudding madly and could definitely make out what was currently going on inside his head. In the same moment, Mike had cupped their hands around his, circling them cautiously like a baby duckling as their wider frame encircled him in an embrace. In all his five years being here, he'd never once been this close to the being and it was intoxicating but not in the sense that it was unbearable or toxic. It was the same euphoria one might feel dreaming, and the only way he could truly explain it would be to say when Mike did press their lips to his it exactly mirrored the bliss of being in the capricious and beautiful botanical garden of their mind. It was that sense that everything truly is alright, not covered up or thrown aside to deal with another day but - he was truly happy. 

Stan Uris knew he made the right choice.

 

 **The Same Night, The Hospital**  

It hadn't been an hour since they'd gotten there but anyone knows when your in a hospital time moves at a snails pace, and this couldn't be any more accurate for Eddie as his legs, which were previously swinging back and forth, revealing tan skin under cut-off jeans, were now pensively glued to the ground and he persisted in jamming his hands under his ass. The grotesque nail-biting habit was getting harder to stave off as his mind went into overdrive, he delusionally concluded the impact of him pushing Richie had crushed him, killed him. This, of course, was an idiotic theory and the back of his subconscious, the rational part, often narrated by Mike, he knew it wasn't all that fatal and that he'd live to fuck up another relationship. It hadn't been an hour but with every ticking of the clock, he felt a new layer of worry unravel itself until he couldn't stand it, pushing himself up with now denim-imprinted hands he walked stiffly over to the desk where a young woman was now occupying it, glancing up lazily when he approached. From her outright unimpressed demeanour you'd think he'd interrupted her lunch break but, no, she was simply staring into space and clearly thought it very rude of him to interrupt that fascinating activity. He cleared his throat. 

"Excuse me?" He questioned, putting on the best smile possible which, considering the circumstances, was still pretty grim, "I was wondering if I could go see Richie Tozier? It's rather urgent."

"Only family members are allowed to see patients." She drawled, clearly tired of repeating the dialogue. 

"What's his emergency contacts name then?" He pressed, foot tapping insistently on grey-flecked marble. If it was Bev she'd be here in half an hour, and he knew she'd have no trouble sneaking him in. 

She shot him an irritable look before sighing. "His emergency contact is... How d'you say that? Edward Kaspbrak."

"Hey, isn't that you?"

Again the stabbing sensation in his gut, but this time it was enhanced by bile rising in his throat as he leaned over the countertop to see the file and, surely enough, greeting him on the grainy paper was his name printed next to a picture, a relatively old picture mind you but a picture of him nonetheless. He didn't know what else to do at that moment besides swipe the file and tuck it under his arm which he did with verve and efficiency. He was Richie's emergency contact. A dozen possibilities and paranoia were turning in his head, including this all being a dream, him waking up to forget it ever happened, and Mike's intervention which all sounded plausible to an extent but it didn't change anything. He could focus on seeing how he was first and foremost. Turning to the irritable woman he gave a grim smile,

"Yes, it is."


	14. Growing Pains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first thing first... I am so fucking sorry for how late this is, and I feel like I should be posting some masterpiece of a chapter in apology but it's pretty late here and I really feel like I should post it now. As it's so late there may be a couple small mistakes I've missed but! I'll no doubt fix them as soon as I wake up. In future, I assure ya'll I'll try to be more active but sometimes bad stuff happens and I know you understand that.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter an anticipate the next.

"Any news?"

When Eddie had retreated from the desk, file clutched between his whitening fists, he was welcomed by Bev Marsh who, despite the obvious exhaustion and looking a horror under the lighting, was a distraction from the previous revelation of emergency contacts. Relaying the news that they could head up soon the Guardian learnt that Bev wasn't by herself, Bill and Ben were currently getting coffee and, despite herself, the woman was forcing herself to joke that they didn't want to be around her when she was this emotionally deranged and prone to biting heads off. It was a joke but Eddie could see she wasn't up to it, could see the way her eyes moved relentlessly when she closed them like a butterfly trapped and desperate for any semblance of peace. It was when these eyes opened, lashes sardonically mimicking that of wings in his mind, that she faced him with a contemplative look that showcased all the emotions possible in the span of a second and made him feel all the more shit for all that had happened. This look wasn't accusatory, she didn't _blame_ him but she was tired, of the world and all it had shoved into the face of her loved ones, and if that didn't resonate and strike a cord in the Guardian he didn't know what would as he sat next to her carefully. The woman was pausing in her breathing, weighing whether or not to say something. He was prepared to answer, or even find out what the question was but some things just weren't meant to be. He didn't find out what that look meant, not that night anyway. He didn't find out because Bill and Ben returned with the caffeine-filled styrofoam cups, two in each hand with tight -disconcerting smiles that carried on the message that they too, were worried sick for their friend. Whereas Ben naturally gravitated towards his lover, nudging her arm softly, Bill Denbrough's gaze swivelled to him with an air of relief mingled with dismay. 

"You okay?" He asked, striding up to him with fidgeting hands pocketed. 

"I'm... Alive?" The Guardian replied, accepting the hug in surprise. Why should it matter how he was feeling? The other's friend was currently awaiting stitches and God knows what else. 

The hug slackened but not before the red-headed man gave his shoulder a squeeze that, on any other day, he would be fine with but it was impossible to hide the flinch that occurred upon pressure. He hadn't had much time to think about the impact pushing Richie out of the way put on his shoulder since dragging him to the hospital, since his episode in the cab, it just hadn't crossed his mind outside of the incessant searing when he moved too freely. It just didn't seem important in comparison to all that was going on, but there was no doubt Bill would fight him on this.

"That didn't look okay," The man muttered, quiet enough as to not alert Bev. "I really think you should-"

"I'm fine," He cut off, spinning to go and join Bev and Ben. "Let it go."

The overall tone of his words was a hash, especially considering someone was trying to help him but it was the only way to get Bill to understand, he would never bring it up in the vicinity to his other friends, his other friends who would only see it as another guilt to their despair. No, they wouldn't talk about this, not when life demanded their undivided worry. So he sat beside the other two of his target's friends who, in a way, in a very small way were also his friends as they awaited any signal and prayed to whatever Gods they did or didn't believe in as a hope that nothing would be too serious. Nothing unfixable. The little they knew about each other and the small time they spent together seemed to seep into one, a common grief and worry about consuming and joining them in a horrible, vicious unity of angst. 

"Eddie Kaspbrak?"

They all looked up at once despite it being his name, surveying the nurse he'd seen previously with confusion. Not quite sure of the expected reaction the Guardian raised his hand in way of answering. "Yes?"

"You're free to go up and wait," She told him. "The rest of you can go up too."

________________

If the hour and a half they'd spent beside Richie's hospital bed felt long then Eddie didn't know what to think of the nurses reply when he asked how long he'd waited here alone. _You've been up here three hours, love._ _Three hours._ Did Mike even notice him missing from the dorms? Could he sense the strain that was without a doubt now above his and Richie's contract? It felt empty without his input in a time of need, while the Guardian was more human than his Boss he wasn't experienced in dealing with this feeling on the job, the feeling of failure so vast that it couldn't be pinned on his perfectionism. It started off as four of them in the room before Bill wanted to get some space, time away from the dismal and dreary atmosphere. He couldn't blame him for wanting a break but... Did he have any plan on coming back?

"I think I'm going to go check on Bill," He muttered, giving Bev's thigh a pat which earned him a tired but genuine smile. "Be right back."

On the way out he couldn't help but pause by Ben too, giving his shoulder a friendly pat and mouthing to make sure Bev eats, to which he returned a small smile and a quiet thank you. How strange it must be for them to have him there, waiting and worrying for a guy they'd known their whole lives while he'd barely known him at all. He'd be lying if it didn't feel strange to him too, the deep feelings that came with it all. Upon searching for Bill he was met with the sight on him crouching on of the pealing chairs, hands threaded through his hair accordingly, and his foot tapping to an inconsistent and messy beat, while the flap of his shoe, now slowly easing off, followed the delirious rhythm. It was with caution he approached him as the Guardian hadn't really seen much of the man's reaction outside of the hug he'd given him earlier. 

"Hey," The Guardian broke out, tiredly striding towards the others hunched position, leaning on the ugly metal of the chairs gingerly. "You okay?"

"What about you?" Bill dodged suddenly, looking up to him bewilderingly, hands clasped together, "You're clearly hurt?"

" _I'm_ fine."

This only to set him off as Bill raised himself to take a step around the hall.

"He always does this, he dives off the fucking deep end and here we are trying to help," The red-head paused in his pace to look him over pityingly. Pity undeserved.

"Hey," Eddie cut off, chills tickling his bloodstream and curdling at the implications behind those words. Behind the man's eyes. "I don't think it's something to be-"

"You don't really know him," Bill laughed out. "Were you there when that guy died, when he was a depressed piece of shit? When we had to deal with him like that?"

This was the part that made the Guardian retreat slightly, the look in the other's eyes and the way the fluorescent light highlighted the exhausted combustion of his mind. He was repelled but at the same time, it snapped something in his mind, in the part that was keeping him together after all this as he stepped towards the gap he had created. It wasn't the right time, he wasn't sure there ever would've been a time _now_ that he would've been okay with it.

"No," He replied, meeting his eyes in defiance. "I wasn't but you bet your ass if I was then I wouldn't treat being there for him as a fucking chore."

And there he was, back muscles searing with the sheer power it took to hold them back, lids heavy with fatigue and anxiety, lips curled down in distaste for what he'd just witnessed and what he was about to witness back in the hospital room. Eddie Kaspbrak had never been quiet, his voice was likely heard by the entire floor as well as the recipient of them who had also thrown out some coarse language, as expected from an English major. The flair of anger he had felt in that moment, the dizziness that came over him subsided on its own leaving him a combination of mortified and disgusted, mortified at himself for being to impulsively disgruntled and disgusted by the words that had left Bill Denbrough's mouth in the moment. That's what it had all been, the exchange, in the moment. There was no doubt that in a day or two he would receive an apology from the other, he would accept it and claim partial blame and they would move past it, it was the obvious outcome and yet it didn't prove soothing to him. Whether he liked it or not Eddie had grown a little defensive over his target and it was a universally known truth he would be forced to confront why that was later when he was far away from this place and all that was transpiring this day. 

"You're already prioritizing his health above your own!" Bill let out, finger pointing to his chest viciously. "You're the one who pushed him out of the way, you're the one who's staying nights with him when he's in his bad spaces, you're the one who, probably, now has a dislocated shoulder. So sorry if I don't see why I should be all shocked over Richie's dumb ass."

"Because that's my _job_." Eddie bit back, shoulder screaming at him to stop exerting himself. "Sorry if you don't want to deal with his lows but it's not exactly his decision"

 _"Your job-"_ He started to scoff.

"Both of you shut the _fuck_ up."

The two men were silenced as they turned to see a ghostly figure of Bev, long slim limbs looking concaved as she stood with an unmatching imitation of her usual fire. She was looking between the two of them with frustration, anger and all things tired as her arms folded above her chest, the fabric of her jumper dulling in the light on the hospital, looking less shabby chic and a little more deteriorated. Whereas Bill's eyes continued to channel the anger he felt Eddie's lost all passion and resilience, turning into a shame he couldn't describe, not at being caught in his anger but for even being angry in the first place. It wasn't his place, no matter how much responsibility he held over Richie it was a rule to never get overly personal to the point you'd defend them outside of work, of what he was really put down here for.

"Richie's awake, just so you know." She informed them, relief creeping into her voice despite the stern line of her mouth. "You know if you're done."

_Awake. Richie. Richie's awake._

His cheeks were heated not just from the agitation in his body, from the intense looks he was still half exchanging or from being caught, the swoll redness in his previously pale face was welcome as a distraction. A distraction from why he'd reacted so harshly to someone other than him pointing out Richie's faults, a distraction from the fact he#d almost failed to protect his target, and a distraction from why he felt so god-awful because of it. Accidents happened, you moved on. That was the Guardian mindset he'd upheld but why was it shaking at the moment? He'd never find out as Bill let his shoulder sky-rocket into a hunch, walking away to assumably cool off and on the other side was Eddie, following Bev into the hospital room silently. Hoping, praying their arguments didn't reach the ears of a newly awoken corpse of a man. That one little sentence ringed through his head the, Richie's awake. Upon drawing closer to the door the woman beside him caught his arm gently, pulling him aside so both of them had their backs flat against the left wall, breathing now slow and steady keeping in a rhythm with each other in an unnaturally intimate vain. She turned to him,

"Is your shoulder really fucked?" Bev murmured to him, doing her best to remain inconspicuous. "Is it dislocated?"

"It's not that bad."

Again, he was on the receiving end of a less than amused look before it gradually faded into fatigue. 

"You should've told us,"

"Didn't seem important with all that's happened,"

An extended silence played while Ben made small talk with an almost non-existent other voice in the background. It was hard to swerve off the anxiety and awkwardness present in the man's voice but it was enough to kickstart the next words between the Guardian and woman,

"Thank you," Bev murmured, gratitude seeping into her grip on his arm and the way she pulled him to sit beside her, accompanying her on the peeling and unsanitised leather. "You really care about him, right?"

Eddie wasn't very sure how to reply in that moment, all he could find himself capable of was taking Bev's pale hand into his own as they sat it silence, red hair dropping onto a beige jumper, with shoulders rising with every ten minutes there was no reaction from the other. He didn't even try to formulate a reply in his head to make up for it, not seeing the point in it as Bev seemed to perfectly interpret his silence in a way he couldn't himself, and for that, he was beyond grateful. That she understood, that he didn't treat him as an outsider the enigma that was her best friend and most of all that she saw how shaken he was and didn't question it. No matter their different circumstances they were there for the same person, the one they were no ready to go in to see awake, or at least less dead to the world.

"Hey there Eds,"

If not for Ben's nudge he wasn't sure he could've heard the greeting but sure enough as he looked down there Richie Tozier was, twitching eyes half-open and mouth barely retaining what he supposed was supposed t be a grin. It made him a little sick if he was honest, to see someone so obviously in pain disarmingly making light of his circumstances and it was again with a twist in his stomach that Eddie realized he couldn't let the other keep up this charade when they were alone. He would have to delve into the entire event, what made him do it and if it was a case for worry would eventually have to fill out an entry to Mike about the mental concern of his target. His stance mirrored all of these thoughts sparing the one that wasn't for him to feel as a Guardian. Immeasurable relief. An ease in his chest. A weight lifted from his burdened shoulders. He was sure the man couldn't see it but to anyone else, to Bev or Ben, he exhibited the same emotions as them. 

They didn't talk about the event.

It wasn't brought up again for the following week his target laid in the hospital bed, maybe because it wasn't the time for it, or because he felt a stream of guilt in pressing him in this condition, or maybe because the situation didn't call for Kate, it called for Richie's friends and, whether he believed it or not, Eddie. The Guardian could no longer distinguish whether he stayed nights at the hotel out of guilt, obligation, worry or a concoction of all three, but what he did know was with every little dirty joke, or crack at his nurses Richie Tozier was on the mend, from the accident and something else more serious than either of them could guess at. The accident was avoided as discussion altogether, an unspoken pact passed between them that they would have to talk about it, just not here or now. Not when one of them was in a hospital bed. 

That week was filled with Bev and him taking shifts, often at alternative times as to nag Richie at different hours o the day. If one thing was for sure he had no room to dwell on it all in his waking hours, not with the new and constant chore of Richie pretending to be up to his old jokes again. No matter how much he shut him down he had to bite his tongue every time he tried to bring up how this wasn't how he was really feeling at the time. It would result in a domino effect he was sure neither of them wanted. Richie Tozier was the type who could happily ignore all his problems until they grew too large, too momentous to ignore and it was this fault that drove Eddie to the point of sometimes taking hour-long breaks from sitting with him. Overall, it was easy to pretend nothing happened at some point, as in there were minutes where it didn't feel all too different. The reality came back down within those minutes and they became quiet. That was pretty funny, two of the most opinionated men in the world and they somehow managed to make each other quiet. A miracle if you asked him, and not the only one.

___________________

It was with a bandage around his head and arm that Richie Tozier returned to his shitty little apartment, accompanied not by his long-time friends who, even now, had doubts about him actually being let out of the hospital despite the deliberate and tedious signing of papers. No, it was Eddie who accompanied his target home, as Guardian should of course... He was sure that's what Mike would've said but it didn't feel like carry out his duty, not today at least. It felt like he was simply walking Richie to his house where he would engage in shovelling week-old nachos down his throat, watching shitty old sci-fi movies and lamenting his woe of being an invalid, and Eddie was simply there as... A friend? Support? All he could come to terms with right now was that he didn't trust the other man on his own, not after witnessing him walk in front of a car at least. He'd have to double down on surveillance, like a childminder... By Gods was that what he was-

The more he dwelled on that the more the temptation to leave the man tucked up in bed, a bottle of wine and box set of the X-Files and runoff. It was a tempting option but... In the reality, the more muted walk to the other's apartment was unnerving and worrying more than anything else and the two of them made their way down the quiet pavement, lamps flickering both in and outside as if to signal the ending of a day. Today hadn't felt like a day, this past week hadn't felt like a week as it felt like it had all melded into a year, or two in the way it portrayed and forced the feelings of anxiety and fatigue onto him and everyone around his target. The first real conversation the two found themselves exchanging was as soon as they got in the apartment. And, no surprise there it was a reprimanding tone Eddie couldn't suppress that called out to Richie in that moment.

"Are you...Kidding?" Between the breath, he took the Guardian had marched up to the other swiping the bottle, "You just got out of the hospital."

In his target's hands was nothing other than a bottle of Cava, fresh out of the fridge and already with a faint painting of where his breath had pressed a kiss onto the glass as if it were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. It was, in the way Richie's muscles shifted, suddenly clear to him once again that he was playing a part. These were the actions, the ignorance of the Richie Tozier he'd first met, not the one he saw underneath all the hospital sickness and labour, not even the man he'd been talking to hours before the incident. He was buffering this whole persona and for what? The Guardian stared at the other's face, in a calculated and unreal sense. His whole look... Tozier was naturally a skinny guy and he knew that but if he didn't look like skin and bones at that moment, Metalica shirt hanging looser over he collarbones in a skeleton-like way and already sunken in cheeks bones making him look like a ghost. It wasn't inaccurate to say he resembled Fantine in her dirty, and sallow appearance.

"Congratulations drink?"

Maybe it was the circumstances of the past week or the fact he genuinely did feel sympathy for the guy and remorse in the fact he couldn't exactly offer the help he required as he was only a Guardian of the heart. He already felt as if he was overstepping his boundaries everytime he went to movie nights with his friends, or stayed to talk through whatever had been on the other's mind that day. Maybe it was al those non-love and non-business related things that had made him capable of caving every so slightly at the sign of his frown and down-turned eyes but with his persistent and now weakened gaze he could slowly see the realization of Richie's face unravels. That the whole facade wasn't in front of him, that they could talk through what happened no matter it being out of the Guardian's job description. It was the only time Eddie felt he'd allow the other to talk for hours. The pale, and now unsteady man leaned himself on the table, dry and unchapped lips opening slightly as if to make further conversation. 

"I-"

_"Rich?"_

Like that the strange bubble that had been created burst, granting Eddie the ability to feel a little more composed and a little less worried for what was working behind the other's eyes behind all of the act this night. The voice had, of course, came from Kate who was no standing next to the couch with a less than happy look on her face. Brown leather contrasting with her pale face, blonde locks contrasting with baby blue slacks she looked a fright, she was a mirror Bev's first stage of anxiety, of grief. Of course, she wouldn't experience the level of worry, of sheer panic Bev had but Eddie couldn't help but wonder why even he, in all his non-committal and unattachment, seemed to look worse than Kate, Richie's girlfriend. The sheer possibility his accident had more of an effect on him than her made him want to crouch over a sink. 

"Kate?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You get in an accident and can't even be bothered calling? I have to hear it from Beverly?"

 _Beverly._ Not Bev, but her full name. The flinch the Guardian experienced was unprecedented.

"I should probably head out-"

"No," Richie spewed out quickly, biting his lip the minute the words left his uneven mouth and reached his squinty clearing eyes that, whether he liked it or not, told people more than enough. "I mean... _Baby_ , Eds here actually saved my life."

He had no plans, he just didn't want to be in between some lovers quarrel, even if one of the participants was an intricate part in his completing the mission and who had... Only just gotten out of the hospital. It was an ugly feeling that rose in his gut, in the picking desire to stay and wait out the other's lover. To uncover what the break behind Richie's eyes had been, to understand what had happened. His want for these things was strong but, in the end, he was Eddie Kaspbrak, Guardian above all else.

"Goodnight, Richie." He let out, trying his hardest to ignore the look those words brought upon him.

It was his job to find Richie love, not to bend to his wishes and wants even after the whole ordeal of the previous weeks Eddie couldn't afford to forget that. By leaving he was shifting the other's dependence onto Kate, and while in an ideal world the man would be able to depend on himself... This wasn't the ideal world, it was far far from it and they both knew that. Had both experienced the bitter. Perhaps it was knowing that if he stayed a lengthy and unwanted conversation would come out about the other being grateful, or the depressing nature in which he'd found him out on the street would come about... Tonight wasn't the night for it. Eddie bid goodnight and with it shot Kate an unwanted smile before dropping it on the man who he gave a curt and businesslike nod. This is what this the entire situation was, a bump in his business plan. 

______________________

That night Eddie Kaspbrak didn't sleep much and you could chalk that up to what you will. In the quiet of the dorms, absent of Stan's pessimistic, or as he liked to call it realistic, chatter and not a Guardian snoring while he laid flat on his back observing the swirls and dips of the immaculate ceiling. He was sure in those moments if you squinted hard enough you could see the stars through the ceiling, but maybe that was his tiredness talking. His shoulder, still occasionally letting out a sharp and unforgiving twist, that translated to his slight moans and groans, could only be seen to by a special Guardian. Even Mike with all his power and whimsy could never fix him up no, he needed the type of medic that created concoctions so peculiar he couldn't be sure it wasn't a drug. His shoulder would have to wait till tomorrow but what Eddie hadn't realized was the pain that had begged for his attention all day, only to be brushed off and unheard. His wrist, the tanned and lightly freckle dusted patch of skin he would never pay attention to that night if not for the notable red now seeping into his sheets. Yanking his arm up in confusion the Guardian was met with the sight of a bloody wrist, thorns protruding like the one that had adorned the biblical figure, pressuring his skin to release more and more liquid. All he could do was stare in amazement, the pain secondary in terms of fascination before his eyes snapped fully open. There were few and explicit scenarios in which a Guardian's wrist started bleeding, started producing these vicious steel-based tips and none of them applied until... 

Death. Whenever a Guardian's target faced their death this would trigger the reaction but... Richie Tozier wasn't dead. In the case the was the pain Eddie felt would be unbearable, the thorns requiring to be cut out by Mike before they killed him too, no his target wasn't dead but... He had a near-death experience. And while in most cases this meant nothing there was a twist in the knot that tied Richie and the Guardian together now, because he had failed to take the precautionary steps after the accident, and he wasn't even sure what those steps were supposed to be. So no, that night Eddie Kaspbrak didn't sleep much as a blood-soaked mattress doesn't exactly make the most comfortable bed. And neither does guilt. 


	15. A Moment of Understanding

 

Usually, when your eyes open after being closed for an extended period of time it insinuates that you were sleeping, in most cases where you didn't have thorns protruding from your wrist sleeping may have been a possibility. Alas, on this glaring Wednesday afternoon Eddie had no such luck as his stingy and unfocused eyes tried to grasp onto an anchor, begging his body to muster some strength from...The minutes he'd actually drifted+ off and been resting. It was hard to wake up when you had no rest to rely on, and even more so when you sit up and feel a sensation like a hammer to the forehead.  As if sensing his consciousness the tie between the Guardian and his target gave a faint-hearted tug, reminiscent of when a jumper snagged on a fence, you had the option to go back and untie it or you could simply carry on like it was nothing, yanking yourself free. Eddie didn't have the _ignore-it_ option. Eddie wasn't an awkward person, for the most part, as he found himself just leaping into a lot of things without thinks: perk, or negative, of having an overbearing guardian growing up. It was because of his lack of hesitancy and lack of any real rest that he burst into his Boss' office, that he opened his mouth to go off about his pain and sufferings. He bustled through for exactly that reason, to throw them at Mike, at Mike who.. _.Stan?_

The being he'd been wanting to confide, to whine to was nowhere to be seen as the pale man,  his very good friend actually, Stan Uris was curled up in a way that if you looked closely resembled a cat taking an afternoon nap. It wasn't afternoon, it was seven in the morning. That wasn't Mike, that was Stan. Wearing the same shirt and trousers as yesterday, collar only a little ruffled which, even for him, was peculiar. Stan was there on the office couch quite content. You would have to forgive the Guardian as he kept repeating that one little detail, as it was all he could really focus on even as he walked further into the room carefully, as to not disturb his friend. Awaiting him, well not him, but in his line of vision was a purple note carrying the scent of parma violets wafting in his direction as if in a wary greeting. Approaching it Eddie gently lifted the paper only to get a sort of mist cloud his eyes when he tried to read it but it was only as the fog cleared and he opened his eyes that he was greeted by none other than Mike Hanlon, arms crossed weakly and a brow in surprise raised. 

"Eddie?"

"Mike?"

The two stood there on a more levelled footing than usual, inquisitive gazes wavering as they scrutinised the other's intentions without words, words that weren't needed as Mike's keen eyes caught onto his shaking wrist, covered in a strip of bed cloth. Whatever trace of irritability the being had given away at his presence disintegrated as they silently took him by the shoulder, leading him to sit down in this unfamiliar setting that, when he looked around, resembled an inverted version of their office. Only this wasn't the bubble gum pink interior he'd been subjected to in the past, there was no tray of sweet hearts in a bowl, there was no bouquet of roses at every corner and there was no Stan curled up peacefully in the couch. It was everything Cupid's office wasn't and it unnerved Eddie to no end, even when he sat he could feel the leather of a foreign chair seep into his trousers. 

"So," Eddie started slowly, staring at his hands intensely. "Richie almost died."

And like that, the dam broke as the Guardian and his Boss went over every little detail of the incident, of everything leading up to it all while swerving what the being had actually been doing at the time and why they hadn't intervened so that Eddie was left wondering if it was a test of strength or perseverance. Did Mike think he would let his target die? Was all this just some game? He... Didn't think so but all the same his eyes wandered restlessly in constrained curiosity and frustration knowing he could never really look the being right in the eye and ask about it. The talk ended much the way Eddie expected, an accident form filled in by his left hand and a wrist eternally dripping, the pain just as if not more prominent after the discussion. There really wasn't anything else to do other than go back down to Earth, to check up on his target, he had no reason to stay in the office but something gnawed at his gut to the point he found himself stalled slightly.

"So...Stan seems pretty well."

Whether he liked it or not the comment came off intrusive but Eddie was never one to try and hide his real interest so he took vague amusement in the wide eyes of the other, of the light and barely there dusting on their cheeks. No words were used but they weren't needed as Mike waved him off and in doing so sent the message loud and clear, they were embarrassed, of what exactly no one knew but the circumstances were obvious to anyone with half a brain. It was in this meeting the Guardian took no comfort, and it was in aching aggravation he braced himself for the travel back to earth, for the intense and brutal pain in not only his shoulder but no his wrist also. Today was, unprecedentedly shit. 

________________________

Once on Earth the Guardian, never one for humming and hawing, was split between tugging himself to the coffee shop for an early shift and heading straight to his targets, knowing damn well he wouldn't be up. In the end, it was the cafe that lost because the idea of going to see Bill after having not spoken to him since the hospital was a little tender for his already beaten and bruised mental and physicality. You'd have to forgive Eddie's appearance as he really wasn't in the right head space that night, or any of the nights before it, to change into acceptable attire so the Guardian was now adorning fluffed up hair, points sticking in perpendicular directions, surprisingly and yet worn crinkled jeans and a tight fitting shirt in which he chose to try and ignore the speck of blood on. He tried, he really did but even his best efforts couldn't stop his anxious and tired hands tugging and rubbing at the fleck in the hopes of it may be, perhaps, disappearing by itself. You could see in his walk the state he was in, in the halting way he took his steps and in the way his back was a little hunched as opposed to the straight-backed normalcy of every other day. If anyone who knew him, really knew him, were to look in his eye they would see something straight away and it was with this realization that Eddie counted himself both lucky and lonely to not really be close to anyone. Maybe Stan would notice if Stan forced himself to make eye contact with anyone. 

The sky was not the overcast grey it was the other night, nor was it the relentless summer it faked the week previous but it was nice enough, a faint breeze messing his hair up a little more although it wasn't like he had the capacity to care at this point. He tried to get caught up in the trip to the man's apartment, appreciating every little pondering puppy he crossed paths with, smiling at any child that waved but the truth of the matter, of the truth of him, was that he wasn't some sunny optimist. Eddie Kaspbrak was a realist through and through and that little fact was wrecking havoc on his delusions he was trying to enforce. Considering the vague rolling of his shoulder was enough to trigger a painful reaction the Guardian note it best to use the old fashioned method of the door or at least the intruder method as he didn't find himself thinking to knock. When you have someone's life in your hands you don't really stop to take their privacy into consideration. Walking into the apartment the waft of burnt eggs and waffles infiltrated the Guardian's nostrils, threatening to make a coughing fit erupt as he closed the door lazily with his food, looking around the room fully expecting a bare-eyed Richie pouring ungodly ingredients into a pan but...No. The man was nowhere to be seen as instead, the sight of Kate greeted him, a long not-hers shirt passing her cut-off jeans in a comical yet endearing fashion. At first, she didn't seem to notice him but when his foot started creaking the floorboards she looked up like a mouse caught in a trap. She did, upon closer investigation, vaguely resemble a mouse. 

"Sorry for scaring you," Eddie got out, walking up to the counter with a small smile while carefully masking the wince as his wrist was hugged by his pocket. "Making breakfast?"

The woman did nothing but stare at him for a couple seconds and he'd be lying if he said, for a rare moment, he didn't feel a little self-conscious under the gaze. The Guardian was never one with self-esteem issues so he shook off the irrational burst and followed Kate's eyes before they cleared and she shot him a smile in return, crossing her arms lazily. Acutely aware of the red ring of the cooker he slyly moved the pan to a cold area, keeping eye contact as to distract from the vague anxiety he got from unused pans left on a heated stove. None the wiser his target's lover pushed her hair back in a sheepish gesture to his previous statement with her blue eyes showing all the multifaceted shades of the sea, a stark and stunning contrast to the otherwise soft and feminine features of her face. She _was_ very contradictory this girl, he wasn't convinced it was a bad thing though. 

 _"Trying,"_ She retorted, now looking to the shifted man and back to him, "Not much of a cook."

" _Hm_ ," The Guardian hummed out, catching this breath before proceeding confidently, "Well, if you're still hungry I happen to be a pretty good cook if I do say so myself."

The two shared a strange smile, it was such a peculiarly natural moment that Eddie found himself all but forgetting who he was really here for, why he had even come down here in the first place. You wouldn't hear him complaining, however, as the stream of chatter flowing between him and Kate was enough to distract him from the thralling twitch in his shoulder as he reached for milk and the incessant and prodding splinters in his wrist. For all the Godsends that could occur he was beyond faithful at the lack of observations at him keeping his right hand in his pocket, not even a quip about him perhaps being left-handed came from the woman and she intently watched his every moment as if taking mental notes for her next attempt. Within ten minutes there was a waffle in front of Kate's glowing face, jam in her hands a couple variously cooked eggs on separate plates and an ever-growing batch of pancakes, it was safe to say the Guardian's body was searing. All the same, he kept a smile plastered on his face. 

"About yesterday," Kate started, waffle pushes to the side of her cheek like a hamster. "I-"

" _Eds_?"

As if both their names had been called the two's heads shot in the other direction, Kate with a fork still poised and Eddie with a waving spatula. Greeting their gaze was, of course, none other than the apartment's one and only resident Richie Tozier who, despite obviously just having had a shower, carried off the _I-haven't-showered-in-four-weeks_ vibe that made him want to force him back into the bathroom until he was, at the very least, decent. Raising his eyes to meet the foggily masked ones the Guardian felt a juxtaposition of effects take place, a thorn receeds and yet the pain doubles, leaving him with a metallic pang of a taste in his mouth. _Eds._ That wasn't his name-

"Rich, I'm in love with Eddie," Kate burst out, waving her fork around with a grin. "Look at all _this,_ when will you ever?"

Startled by the sudden confession the Guardian feigned cocky but couldn't help but return the woman's smile in a wave of pride at his work being appreciated. His real work on Earth clearly wasn't getting any praise so it couldn't hurt to show off his special skills, especially to people like Kate who obviously loved it. If Eddie was a little startled Richie was shocked but, no, not by his girlfriend's confession - the food. Letting the towel drop from his head Richie shot to the table, hooking his ankles around the stool with inhuman speed and accuracy, already piling a lot of everything onto a plate. It was only after cramming two pancakes in his mouth he seemed to register what the woman said, and he squinted behind the foggy frames. 

" _Excuse_ me?" The man replied with exhaustive flair, "Get your own, sweetheart. This one's mine."

This reply sent Kate into a fit of giggles and left Eddie with a bitter taste in his mouth as he remembered the start of the conversation the previous night, how the jokester attitude resurfaced in an attempt to mask whatever that accident had left him feeing - how he'd been feeling before the accident. The Guardian had hoped the woman being here, her sunny aura and relaxed nature could perhaps coax the true state out of Richie but this clearly, disappointingly, wasn't the case as that little joke scrapped the barrel of the usual jokes that came from his target's mouth. At the very least, _at the very least_ the affectionate terms of endearment were real enough and the little smiles the couple shared sparked something in the vain of love, of fondness and honestly? He was ready to take any hint of good in his life, even the smallest signs. The man's words left him with the bitter but all the same a smile was forced to surface and he cracked a harsh laugh, breaking an illusion of his state of mind. 

"I'm not _anyone's_ ," Eddie broke out into the new fit of silence, picking at his own waffle. "I especially wouldn't be offering my skills every day without a reasonable pay." 

The afternoon played out from there with a fair share of Eddie defending himself from various half-assed jabs, and gloating when Kate took it upon herself to recognize his struggle of the relentless and irritating nature of Richie. Did she notice how wrong his attitude was? Or, did he not let out his asshole-ish humour around those he was interested in? These questions would pound his head if the pounding wasn't still reserved for his hand which he'd been taking the strenuous effort to keep hidden the last two and a half hours and, thankfully, hiding it wasn't a task when Richie's hands were otherwise engaged in the hook of his girlfriends jeans or, more commonly, shovelling food into his gob once more. The pain had, however, since taken intervals of easing whenever the Guardian came into contact with his target, providing these lapses of judgement in which Eddie would unconsciously hit the man for the slightest provoking comments as an excuse to ease the pain although the price was whining that he'd bruised him even more. The eyes behind this irritability were dead and the more he looked the more it worried him. 

It was now, eight going on nine at night, that Kate had to take off for her own work which, Eddie learnt, was a journalist. A smile wormed his way onto his face, only slightly, at her profession as he couldn't have imagined anything better for her - from the way he was talking the Guardian surprised himself. He was the one growing enamoured with his target's girlfriend, of course in a platonic sense but all the same he felt a giddy pride at having matched them up and it was evident the feeling of friendship was mutual as right after giving Richie a lingering kiss she hooked one of her arms around his shoulders in a goodbye. A sweet gesture, one he would've reciprocated if not for his hand, one he wouldn't be embarrassed by if he didn't flinch at the smallest pressure to his shoulder to which he had to wave off as being stiff. All the same, he waved the woman off with a smile and was left, unpreparedly, with a wide-awake Richie Tozier. 

"What's up, Eds?" 

"What's going _on_?"

"I believe-"

"Seriously, what's wrong?"

"I don't know what you mean,"

So it was like that, huh. In so many ways this interaction set the two back to step one and back to where their communication was that of an animal and human - the dodging of the simplest questions with quick-witted and dirty sarcasm. Yeah, well, he wouldn't let this escape him when the sarcasm wasn't even to the usual standard when something unsettling was going on behind his eyes. The Guadian stared the other down until a phone rang, until even then the taller man seemed to have trouble shaking a feeling off of himself. It was Bev. There was a movie-drinks night of the sort going on and, of course, it was at Richie's in less than an hour. 

______________________

It was half eight before any of the group thought to make it over, an hour meaning something entirely different to them than it did to the Guardian who had spent that time speedily cleaning up boxer briefs and empty packets. Christ, had Kate really seen all this and stayed? The girl was strong if not strange. The first to arrive was Ben who, without Bev, seemed a little awkward for the few initiating moments, before finding his shoulders slouch and slugging his dear friend on the shoulder in the most gentle and Ben-like action Eddie had ever witnessed. He was thinking of the hospital, of all that had transpired that no one knew of and Eddie respected him for that, he wished for a moment he could approach the dilemma with gentile care and worry rather than rash anxiety and the need to pry out anything and everything. Ben was thinking of all this and yet knew that his words could let loose all havoc, and instead oozed the familiar smart and friendly banter reminiscent of the guy everyone in high school moderately liked. The guy who may not have been the most popular pupil but instead was consensually liked and considered harmless. Eddie decided then that this was what he liked about Ben Hanscom. 

In the waiting presence for two other people the Guardian's mind drifted to other things, a distraction from the waning consciousness of his wrist, his mind went to that who wouldn't be attending - Stan. His _dear_ friend who he'd previously, rather suddenly, encountered curled up on a couch with little to no cloud in his calm sky of an expression, only optical beams lighting his features in a way Eddie didn't know if he'd ever seen before, or would ever see again. Even so, his mind went to where Stan was and what tedious task was occupying his attention on a mindless day like this. So seized and caught up by this the brunette didn't quite hear the handle turn, or even notice the furrow of Ben's brows or take account of anyone other than Bev entering the room. There was indeed Bev, loose and baggy shorts swallowing up her legs and a sunny crotched cardigan matching them in a purple and retro hue, freckles ever present but mischevious and youthful smile... Not so much. There was a smile but it was marred when she took note of Eddie but no, not in a disdainful way, more in an oh no moment. He didn't quite get what the big deal, this was the calm before the storm before...The storm was already there. Right beside Bev was Bill Denbrough in his basically classic fit of faded jeans and t-shirt a wardrobe he's carried all throughout his life. 

Thankfully within moments, the awkward glance was over as the topic switched to what movie they would all be watching which thankfully, they all agreed to not watch _The Sound of Music. T_ hey settled it on some god-awful Halloween flick none of them had ever heard of and, undoubtedly, was sure to cause a lot of jokes on one end and a lot of explaining of  _that could never happen_ on the other. Even so, it was welcome in the way it gave of a close and familiar atmosphere and the air of them all knowing each other, it was a sensation Eddie wasn't sure he could recount experiencing in any recent years but... That's what made it for him. What also really made it for him, in the worst possible way, was the forced hitting he inflicted on Richie's shoulder to even slow the excruciation in his wrist, as he was sure to most he looked like a young girl hitting her crush after a totally-not-hilarious joke in the hopes of gaining brief affection. _Gah_ , if one part was accurate it was the unfunny jokes but even then this amusement did nothing for him. The conversation never stopped which could be a charm when it was Bev, the woman herself was beyond charming when not clingy and attached-at-the-hip with her lover. 

The night overall was going pretty well, that was true until the interruption - Bill's stomach. Until that moment Eddie hadn't been particularly bothered by Bill and had even gone as far and joking around with and conversing with him. An apology was still on the waiting list but he didn't find himself caring tonight, he wouldn't have even minded the growl if it didn't become a chain reaction for Richie who took it as a sign to say he was _hungryyy_. Like that, without consent, the Guardians time was now dedicated to feeding two mouths who stated homecooked food was what they thirsted for, not say something easy and manageable like takeaway. 

**__________________________**

Considering it decency to ask Bev and Ben if they were hungry he did but, as he previously acknowledged, it was past ten, and the other two were reasonable human beings with a sense of time and when to eat so it went without saying that they had already filled three meals of the day. They said this and yet Eddie noted the wistful glint in Bev's eyes and promised himself he'd make a spare, smaller portion, for the woman. With fever, he had made them promise to keep the movie on but if he was being honest it was more for background noise than anything as he was becoming increasingly aware of both his and his target's heartbeat for reasons that had never been explained to him. A wavering contract that was on its last legs, that had been temporarily severed by a near-death experience. What was he to do but do his best to ignore it, to distract himself with eggs and cheese and the other ingredients the man surprisingly did, in fact, have in stock although they'd obviously never been touched? And so he got to work and it was only when the smell started wafting that he felt his own disregarded stomach grumble which, sadly, he found himself brushing off as he couldn't keep it down in these conditions. Whether it was the coming smell or not, he didn't know, but within the next minute Bill Denbrough found himself on a stool beside him, ankles hooked and eyes interested. 

"S-Sorry if it's a boh-bother... Sorry, in general."

With that little utterance, he couldn't help but look to see the other's earnest pulling of his eyebrows and the ever-present fiddling of his thumb. Surely enough Bill was tugging at his lip relentlessly in an anxious manner before leaving it and meeting his eyes fleetingly to which Eddie replied to with a small smile, a way of forgiveness without saying anything as he continued with the food. It was after flipping the first omelette that he thought to open his mouth. 

"How've you been?" The Guardian asked habitually, "Everything okay with school?"

"It's fine," The man answered, swigging beer ceremoniously, "But what about-"

"How we doing over in the kitchen?" A booming voice interrupted, a scraping of the other stool not long following. "Miss Lawson treating you alright Big Bill?

His eye twitched, he would ignore the snap for now.

"Nigella's pretty hot," Bill shrugged off, looking to Richie. "Besides it smells real good."

Moving around to where he was working, directly next to him, in fact, the target shared a grin with Bill before humming a sing-song tune. This would all be a little less irritating if not for...

"How is Eds today?"

And with this question it wasn't even the nickname that caused him to freeze up, it was the clap on the shoulder that caused a small yawp to escape the Guardian's lips. Following the yelp, four eyes went straight to him, Richie's in surprise and Bil's in horror. Eddie's? Sheer, unadulterated panic.

"You haven't gone to the doctor yet?" Bill questioned, mouth open and eyes wide. "Eddie I said that-"

"Wait, what?" Richie butted in, looking from him to Bill. "What's wrong with your shoulder?"

Much closer than Eddie had ever remembered he turned his eyes to Bill from Richie not knowing who to address first. Fearing a shoulder inspection he couldn't help but slide a little to the side, left hand still stirring the pan with ease and avoiding eye contact before he looked up to the other two's eyes, apprehensive of more questions from either of their sides. How badly he wanted to shrug, how much he despised the hesitation now required in rolling his shoulder even slightly. It could all be over now, at this rate 

" _Nothing,_ " The Guardian got out through gritted teeth. "I'm perfectly fine."

Nothing could've prepared the shorter man for the following actions, for cold, skeletal fingers trying to slip and see the damage of his shoulder and it was because of this shock of temperature Eddie couldn't control the too-quick reply to such an action. Without his consent the brunette's right arm flew out to grab at the other's skinnier one in retaliation and halt, gripping Richie's arm with strength he didn't have, and because this strength was opaque in its false nature it didn't take long for blood to drip from his wrist onto the man's arm. _Fuck_. If Eddie had done so well in hiding his right hand until this point maybe this reveal was his price for being dishonest, maybe the price was having to see the other's face warp in horror and a misplaced unfamiliar worry for him, his Guardian. A look Eddie would think about when writing up the other's report and when he questioned what exactly he thought he was here for. He would do that but right now his chest was heavy, his breathing ragged and eyes panicked. 

" _Oh_..."

This admission was from none other than Richie Tozier before he brought his hand down, out of the sight of others, and cleared his throat. Within a minute he had fixed his face to turn to the others, a fake character taking the stage for now. But that's just what it was, his body language gave away every pang of anxiety and grief and what a week in a hospital did to a man but no one looked at his body in this moment because he was Richie Tozier, the guy with the stupid grin plastered twenty-four seven. No, now he had the fakest of sunn smiles on, yanking his hand while simultaneously trying to be careful.

" _Eds, Eds, Eds_ ," Richie yelled obnoxiously, looking over his shoulder and back. "Won't you come with me? I think we need to talk, it's been so long since we _talked_."

It surely garnered the attention of the three others but it was only Bill who stared a little longer after them, and it was only Bev whose eyes glimmered with a worry. Ready to yell about the omelette being left on he thought better of starting it with something as petty as that, Bill would turn the cooker off and...He wasn't the one who was going to start this talk as the man's fingers hadn't left his arm yet. They were now occupying the messy, slightly better smelling room of Richie Tozier whose eyes seemed to dart everywhere but his face. Eddie said he wouldn't start but-

"Why- Why in the _fuck_ didn't you say anything?"

Now that wasn't the response he was expecting, not the emotion he thought he'd be faced with. The brunette swallowed before tugging his arm back and steeling his gaze, e wouldn't be made to feel guilty for not telling him. Not when he'd been wanting to raise the other's emotional state and got shut down time after time. No. 

"Why've you been so distant?" Eddie found himself shooting back, arms painfully crossed. "Why won't you open up a fraction when...You know why I got this? Because our contract is half severed right now. Because  _you_ almost died, and won't even tell me _why_."

"Your shoulder," He muttered inconsistently.

"A product of me saving your ass when I dove from the motherfucking _sky_." The short of the two frustratingly pointed, finger shooting at his chest. "Now, _please._ Tell me what happened"

And then there was a thump, the others had left. Well, that was great. Swell. Fantastic. "And now your friends have left."

He didn't want to be blaming him, fresh out of the hospital and all, but there was no way to be gentle. Gentle wasn't what you were when someone your life depended on landed himself in hospital, gentle wasn't what you were when your wing was ripped and bleeding into your shoulder internally and it certainly wasn't what you were when there were thorns protruding from your everloving wrist. So no, he didn't want to seem harsh but there was really no other option, and he found himself reaping the negative of this as his mind swam from the raising of his voice, losing his place and reaching out for something to steadying himself. This was what happened when you didn't eat, that's what Stan would say. 

" _Hey-_ "

It all got too much, the lack of food, the pain of it all, the dried blood his inner child was hyper-focusing on, the stress of this case, of what he was doing or why he was even here. It was all this and yet anyone, especially Stan, would say it was all because of him neglecting himself well...Maybe it was. It was the horror of realizing he'd stumbled mid-point-making and was caught by the man he was trying to explain it to, the man who was now sitting him on his bed where he was certainly sitting on at least one packet of crisps. Without a word, the taller man started rummaging through his wardrobe only to come out with a tattered, age-old packet of bandages. The flowing argument he had was pressing into his skull, pounding at him to yell at the man for all the weakness he'd installed in him, for all the vulnerability he was showcasing against his will. 

"Your shoulder," The target repeated, a little softer now, "Can I see?"

Eddie weighed his options for the moment, considering the fact his shoulder was... Well, his shoulder, in this case, was in every way his wing so it wouldn't be his shoulder he'd be showcasing. He'd showed his target his wings before, on many occasions, some resulting in unwelcome pats and inevitable jokes but...He could work with this. 

"If I do," He regarded him, his fogged up glasses, "Will you tell me about everything? How everything is for you right now?"

With a swift nod long, skinny fingers were already focused on unravelling a bandage, other one pushing back unruly messes of hair from the insides of large frames. With every little slipping of blindly useless fingers trying to help Eddie's mind conflicted with his body in how he suppressed the unpleasant feeling of it being Richie Tozier and yet being unable to stop the slumping of his body, and a little sigh he let through his mouth as the pain ebbed. Noticing this he could see the lanky man's mouth quirk in a quick-time reaction to preparing to make a joke.

"Don't you dare," The Guardian breathed up, "I don't know why but it helps when I have contact, makes the contract stronger."

"You know I felt something different too," The man muttered, tying a childish knot in the bandage. "Usually I have this feeling in my chest, whenever I do something like leaving the heating on too long. It's like I know you'd want me to turn it off."

Now _that_ he never knew. Never had a target told him that they could also sense him in some way but, then again? He'd never been tasked with a target for this amount of time. Had never done this extensive of a check on anyone. Within this long conversation pending he felt as if he'd know him more than he knew even Stan, or anyone. Even so, he felt the chill of the statement wash over him. The pain, now completely subsided at the proximity of the Guardian and his target, in the same room alone there was no space for anyone else's person to interfere, disrupt the strengthening bond. What he had to do to truly regain the contract he didn't know but at that moment in time, it felt as if it was refixing itself with every moment the two spent in each other's company. 

"Before I show you my shoulder," Eddie started, wanting to push himself up a little. "Tell me what was going on that day."

"Would you believe me if I told you I didn't know?" Came the unsteady reply, clasping and unclasping hands occupying his lap. "I felt like I was in a dream, and when I woke up it was like I wake still in the dream...Eds, it was like I was a teenager again, that hole in my chest felt as big as it did the day it all happened. Not to sound all hocus-pocus-y but it felt like a warning."

He would let the _Eds_ slide this once. 

"And you don't know what it could be a warning of?" A shake off the head, "God."

Without a question Eddie's mind went into a theory, analytically looking through all he'd experienced of the other's life and the little he knew about the person his target had loved. He knew, quite literally, nothing as his target himself all but remembered the way this person made him feel and the rock it left lodged inside him after the death. It was a dark place to go but the brunette could only pray, could only hope, it wasn't some type of dark omen of history repeating itself. If history wanted to repeat itself the Guardian had very little control of the outcome but come what may he knew one thing for sure, he wasn't letting the love of Richie Tozier's life die a second time. Not again. It was all so thick on his mind like a mist had simultaneously cleared his questions and left more unanswered. But that was fine for now, it was enough to take away, he could ask the other thing he wanted to know but, only seeing it fair, he shrugged off his thick jumper till he was only left in a sort of old tank top with the holes cut out. He'd unfurl his wings but not before his last question. 

"How come you've been acting so funny?" Eddie asked, leaning back with his one good shoulder. Watching the other's expression carefully he watched it shift from an honest fatigue to a thoughtful frown to the true feeling, desperation. So that's how it really is.

"I know I said it before but," There came a dry pause, "I really did feel a difference when the connection snapped, I've gotten pretty used to feeling your end of the line in my chest and the change...It shook me a little."

"Ah," He murmured, with a dash of newfound confusion. "I never knew it was like that for targets."

"Not as bad as you," Richie offered, trying to keep a smile semi-up, "And you know it's not like I want to show other's when I'm struggling, that isn't me. I'm the funny guy, y'know people do actually find me amusing. You just seem immune."

Okay so maybe that struck a bit of an empathetical cord in the elder, in his heart, Eddie couldn't help but want to attempt a smile for his target who, for all his faults, was a man beaten. A man who, while he had close friends and a lover, was just plain tired. It was in moments like these he wanted to plead Mike to let him out of contract, to just find Richie a therapist, and find him mental help but all he got was the reminder his target likely wouldn't stick with it. All the same, it was in moments like this his heart yearned to ease the trial on the other's side, wanted him to see he understood life wasn't all about love. Hell, Eddie knew that more than anyone, he didn't even want love to be near a five-mile radius of him let alone in his everyday life. All these little snippets of how the other was feeling allowed him to comfortably, or as comfortably as he could, let his wings unfold with a more gruesome showing than usual. Instead of flecks of feathers, and glitter it was dried blood that spattered on the bed sheets in a stained manner. He winced.

_"My God,"_

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"What do I even do?"

Looking back Eddie refused the bulge in his throat at the sight of his wings, "All we can really do is clean it up...It's another month before a professional can see me."

"Professional?" The other enquired, now well in the way of the bathroom."An angel doctor?"

"Something like that." 

The wry reply didn't go unmissed as he got the most genuine smile he'd seen in days a return, hands now occupied with warm water in a basin, a towel was thrown over the side.  If he was being perfectly honest the Guardian was tense to let anyone touch his wings, especially after previous outcomes but, besides that, the little kid in him could all but hear his mother's voice. Could all but hear the listing of diseases you could get when a wound wasn't cleaned properly, how you shouldn't ever put yourself in a situation you could get hurt in the first place. God, her voice was so crystal in his mind at that moment. The entire scenario of a lanky boy behind him, cleaning off dried blood, it all rang back to a time he didn't remember and likely, never would. Memories were all the same to Eddie Kaspbrak, no matter how hard he tried. The process of cleaning was thorough yet careful, delicate almost, and it left him feeling the bond between the two of them stronger than before. The careful wrapping of the bandage ended and there was a beat of silence before,

"What part of being a Guardian of the Heart requires a workout schedule?"

He couldn't help it, a brief and careless snort escaped the brunette before shooting the dark-haired man a funny look in reply. Of all the things to comment on? Looking down at his arms the Guardian simply guessed he'd had this body type since he was a teen, although he was guilty of running off steam in the gym whenever Stan or Mike pressed him. All the same, the comment struck him as odd.

"None of it," Was the answer, "But I suppose I just enjoy it."

Eddie's chest was now still as it could be, his hand bandaged with a messy yet considerate wrap and a weirdly peaceful ease he hadn't felt in it for a while. Whether it was because of the man opening up to him a little more on his circumstances, or the fresh feeling of his wing he wasn't entirely certain but he leaned carefully back with a sure focus on pressuring mostly on the left. With unprecedented strength Eddie Kaspbrak felt a wave of fatigue overcome him, only just holding back a yawn as the glasses on Richie started to look more like saucers and him more like a bug. He wouldn't say that though, he didn't seem to need to. 

"Y'know you can sleep, you aren't going to catch something from the bed."

"Oh, it isn't catching something I'm worried about."

Lie, he was _partially_ scared of that. 

"Think I'm going to smooch you?"

His nose crinkled.

"Murder me more like."

The two carried on like this until they both cracked an infectious smile, leading up to a laugh that lasted seven minutes before it strained the freshly bandaged wounds on the Guardian. Still fuzzy, and voice getting increasingly tired the shorter of the two rolled his eyes at something the other said before there was a beat of silence. During the silence his target opened his mouth once more, dark curls now fluffing up like a dandelion.

"Seriously though, you look awful." The man ignored the look. "I'll even put a big ass pillow between us so you'll be alerted before my murderous plans take place."

If he'd been a little sleepier Eddie would've asked why the other couldn't sleep on the couch but the impending and clear result of hospitalisation was enough to show him he needed the bed just as much as him. It was because of that realisation, or maybe because he truly was shattered, or the strengthening connection but... He nodded. With his brown hair flopping to his tan forehead Eddie agreed to the sleeping arrangement and without hesitation curled himself up on the left side of the bed. If you'd told him he'd be sleeping on this man's bed when he first met him, even two weeks ago, he would've called the person batshit but...Things changed. People changed but...Really it was perspective that changed. Your perspective on a person could change with every bit of themselves they let you see and that was what Eddie was learning this past week. With a creak on the right, Richie was on the opposite side of the pillow wall, taking up a substantially larger portion of the bed, at least in length. It was with no difficulty the two's breathing synced. There was a silence, there was a new intake of breathing as their eyes drifted to a close. 

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

And it was, in not only that moment but in his chest Eddie Kaspbrak felt the bond snap back into place, warmth spreading back into his chest snuggly. Without knowing, the two men went to sleep with the same warmth in their chest and an identical smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that this is so long ya'll, consider it an apology for not updating yikes.


	16. not a chapter

Guys....I'm so sorry I've been gone so long, to remind myself I think I'll reread what I've written so far but hfskddsk but...Let me know if you guys would really like me to continue, it would motivate me a lot. :)


	17. Spin the Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eheh bet you didn't expect a long chapter so fast well...It's 1AM and while I did the majority of the editing beforehand I will be back to fix and little errors near the end when I wake up. Enojy. <3

Eddie wasn't quite sure what woke him, the lanky limb thrown over his stomach or the painfully unfortunate angle he had his healing shoulder at, whichever was the culprit he woke up all the same. The room was cool as autumn was fast approaching, shadows playing through the peaks in faulty blinders. Typical. Reevaluating it all the Guardian suppressed the smile as what had previously been a cold corner in the circumference of his chest was now warm, the bond had indeed snapped back in to place some time last night and it was as he looked over at Richie, his lengthy arm getting over the pillow barrier to his stomach that the bond coming back felt more acute than it ever had. What he'd said, how he's been feeling...It was enough to weigh down on his fresh brain and would've sparked a sympathetic pat to the head if the target's hands didn't start pressing on his stomach curiously, going down the ridges of where he'd been defined since early teenage-hood before they clasped around the fabric of his shirt entirely, clinging to it for dear life. With an unamused frown, Eddie couldn't help but prod the other man, soon resorting to flicking him in the ear which earnt an instant reaction of wide eyes and open mouth. 

"Tozier?"

Finally functioning a little more like a normal human being his target mechanically brought his eyes down to where his hand was clasped, releasing it almost instantly in surprise, meeting his gaze in dazed fright as he shook it off like always. Like always. 

"Sorry," He muttered before sitting up, wincing as his head rested against the headboard, "Had a bad dream."

This was completely foreign territory for both of them. Their bond was at full strength once more, they'd finally had an open conversation, they were in the same bed and while divided by the pillow they were physically closer than ever but strangest of all? They weren't throwing snide comments, Richie wasn't making dirty jokes, and Eddie wasn't scornfully telling him off. It wouldn't last long, that much was clear, but it felt unnatural to revel in such an occurrence. Even so, they both let out a cough knowing the bad dream wouldn't be talked about in depth at this time in the morning. It took a minute but Richie jumped off the bed as carefully as he could, assessing him before waving a hand vaguely. 

"I smell pretty rank."

"You do."

They shared a look grin. 

"So I'm going to go shower," He expanded, "Help yourself to whatever crap is in the fridge."

"I think I'll," Eddie started, throat rough, "Guardian myself home to get some clean clothes."

With an acknowledging nod he headed off, towel tossed over his shoulders as he walked a little slower than normal, choosing his steps as to not trip on any of the shit on the floor, his shit. With his head in his hands, the Guardian focused his energy on getting back to the dorms, with all the strength a nine-hour nap could give him he pushed himself and envisioned himself there, sitting with Stan. But... No matter how hard he tried he remained on the creaky, almost floor height bed only giving himself a line in the middle of his forehead the more he persevered. He was sure he hadn't had that line before coming down here. With a final attempt he collapsed momentarily to the bed, pushing himself up a minute later to go to the bathroom door where, inevitably, show tunes were being sung. 

"Tozier-"

"Eds?"

"Yeah?" He resisted the flinch at the name once more, "My magic isn't working so-"

"I'll lend you a shirt," Richie interrupted once more, "That's no problem but... Uh, do you think you could maybe... Help me?"

"Richie I swear to fucking God if this is a joke-"

" _No,_ Christ no I just can't," He swallowed his pride then, thickly, "Washing my hair is really fucking hard and I...Yeah."

Oh. Oh, he really wasn't kidding in the least. Taking a moment to himself to consider there really wasn't any other option in this situation, he had to help but not just as a Guardian, as a decent person with morals. Steeling himself for jokes and a possibly naked Richie Tozier the Guardian creaked open the door, breath bated and praying to some kind of God, adopting his Mother's catholicism momentarily. Thankfully Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were looking out for him in this department as his target had indeed changed into his fresh clothes, hair soaked and dripping onto the fresh shirt unpleasantly, so irritatingly, in fact, that before he said anything Eddie put a towel around his shoulders like a little kid.

Without a word Richie sat on a stool beside the bath, nodding to the shampoos as he closed his eyes, eyebrows stringing together as if it pained him to even have him in here right now. Maybe it did, he could never imagine enjoying someone washing his hair like this, not in the context of not being able to do it for yourself... Eddie supposed he understood that much as he popped open the bottle and started to lather it onto the other's already wet hair. The tiles of the bathroom were baby blue all over, lacking any curtains or blinds, sporting a mess of razors and aftershave and hair gell the Guardian theorized he utilized far too much. Overall it was the bathroom - Hell, it was the _apartment_ , of your run-of-the-mill male Uni student and he couldn't harp on him for that. At least not while he was feeling like this. 

Unprecedently there was a lengthy groan from the long-limbed man before the open lips shaped into a smile, eyebrows raising as if to get a clear vision of the man doing his hair. 

"Always knew you'd end up getting me wet, Eds."

Eddie Kaspbrak's hands stilled. He knew he would say something like that at some point, he just hadn't planned for it being this soon after the accident as now that it was so unexpected he felt the comment rile him up more than usual, found himself needing to take a little longer to formulate a reply he wouldn't have to spit out through gritted teeth. In the end, he went for a calm, calculated response he knew he couldn't make a joke of. 

"Don't start with the dumb jokes if you don't feel up to it," The Guardian couldn't keep in, "People won't leave you if you tone it down for a while."

There was an extended silence between the two men as one continued to massage the other's head meticulously. 

"Sometimes it helps, though," The dark-haired man mused, "To fake your normal self, it kickstarts the real thing a lot of the time." 

"So..." Eddie considered his words, tasted them. "You're gonna go back to being a lovable asshole?"

"You think I'm lovable?" His lips quirked, "And here I thought-"

"Remember whose about to douse your hair in water," The Guardian snipped, refuting a laugh. "Now stop talking or you'll get suds in your mouth."

There was no doubt the two of them would go back to bickering, to arguing and misunderstanding each other and blowing fuses. They weren't under any illusions when it came to their relationship, not at all, yet these little moments where there was a hint of more meaningful conversation to be had, a serious streak in the man, they reminded Eddie that his target was indeed the same as any human, susceptible to heartbreak and hurt. And these little snippets of the real him? They only made his job easier, showed him what kind of person he really needed. So far Kate was doing better than he had hoped. He soaked the man's hair once more before towel drying it with the one draped around his shoulder, doing it hard enough to earn a comment but received none as when he had finished Richie Tozier simply turned to him with an equally genuine and playful smile. 

"Thanks, Eds,"

Sitting on the bed he awaited a new shirt as Richie riffled through a wardrobe with no clear rhyme or reason, half the shirts had fallen off their hangers and were skewed across the floor and he was pretty sure he'd seen one or two in the kitchen. Kicking his leg slightly Eddie quickly accepted that he'd have no choice other than to stay in his own trousers as there was no way in hell he'd get into a six-foot man's jeans. With a triumphant yawp, Tozier stood up, although not without noticeably bracing himself on the desk, a tank top clutched in his hand as he turned to face him before throwing it across to him proudly. 

"Smallest thing I could find."

Unfolding it the Guardian was greeted by a Tori Amos shirt depicting her album cover from _Little Earthquakes_  and he hid a smile at it as he'd always loved her music. It felt... Familiar in his hands, the fabric, the worn-out print on it, they all screamed of a time when nothing mattered, when he was happy. He felt all these emotions inside him looking at the piece of fabric and yet it wasn't even his, it was his target's shirt... Although it was far too small to have ever fit him, even when he was a young boy. Eyes flickering up he noticed Richie observing him back, eyes not giving away a thing before he brought his goofy grin back. 

"Too shy to change?" He prodded, "Should I turn to save your modesty?" 

Ignoring the jabs he started to shrug off his shirt only to pause, wings still heavily bandaged in a thick gauze that, surprisingly, had held during the night and stopped any red liquid seeping through. This was great, phenomenal even, but the problem showed itself to be this: he couldn't get his shirt off without assistance. Without saying anything he looked to Richie who was already wearing a shit-eating grin, making his way over to him. He knew to keep his mouth shut after all he'd done for him. He knew and yet would that stop his smile? No, of course not. Avoiding eye contact Eddie was a little impressed by how careful the other man was in getting his bandaged wing past the fabric. Letting him pull the Tori Amos shirt over his head the Guardian felt a weird warp in his perception of time and surroundings, the tank fit snuggly as if it was made for him. For a maximum time of ten seconds, the room in front of Eddie was none other than his childhood bedroom. He was opening a gift that had been snuck through his window which... Of course, was the shirt, the exact same one. Before he could grasp any clue of who had given to him, where it had come from, he was pulled back into the reality that was Tozier's room where he was looking at him with vague concern. The Guardian merely shook his head before clapping him on the shoulder. 

"I think I need to go," 

Leaving it at that the brunette walked out into the baltic autumn air with no regard to his outfit, or where he was actually heading to. His vision was oranges and reds, gravel grey and cloudy blue as he looked up to the sky in question, expecting something to come from it, an answer? From who he didn't quite know. He couldn't stay out here forever, that was obvious, and so Eddie called the only person who could think of. Stan. 

_____________________________________________________

Stan Uris was a simple man who liked simple things; birds, Mike, sleep, and theorizing about the imminent end of the universe as we know it. Theorizing in general, he was a pretty smart guy. Again, Stan knew what he disliked too and it was the following - his sleep disturbed. So as anyone could guess he wasn't thrilled when he was called mid-afternoon by his good and trusted friend Eddie Kaspbrak to come to get him. In fact, Eddie was pretty sure if his critical condition wasn't evident enough he would've gotten a slap upside the head. He would've understood if he had. 

"You doing okay?"

The two Guardians were in their shared dorm, Stan flopped down on the bed and Eddie riffling through his closet in search of a jacket and bottom half, decidedly keeping the Tori Amos shirt on. It fit... It would make no sense to get rid of it, right? It wasn't like Richie had any need for such a small thing. Overthinking his outfit, he felt thirteen. 

"Yeah, our bond snapped back," He muttered, stifling a groan as he bent his shoulder, "Any chance of me seeing one of the medics today? Shoulder isn't any better."

"Shit, really?" His friend pressed, sitting up as he tried to ditch the idle and suspiciously mellowed expression, "Eddie you might have to wait another couple weeks, the waiting rooms ready to burst."

"Hm. How're you and Mike doing?"

"Fuck off."

The two shared a smile, Eddie's one of unbridled amusement and Stan's of dreamy adoration and horror. This exchange was nothing new but now there was a more serious undertone and he could see, the brunette could see clear as day upon closer inspection, Stan was happy. His cheeks were a little flush, eyes soft and fingers relaxed, unlike the usual itching mess they were at his wrists. Stan Uris was content and Eddie couldn't quite describe what that meant to him right then. The two friends spent a good portion of the day bantering about, Stan still pulling the dry humour card, it never left his deck, and offering what little insight he could on relieving his shoulder because at the end of the day, they cared for each other's wellbeing, like all friends. By six Stan had to excuse himself on behalf of a dinner date to which he retorted that he better not be in a life-or-death situation while the higher power of Guardians was off romancing him. They stifled a laugh before heading off in separate directions, stratospheres. To Earth, the smaller Guardian went. 

_____________________________________________________________

To be completely honest Eddie hadn't made any concrete plans upon his return, settling to take a walk to adjust and let the air get to his cramped and sore body, habitually passing the coffee shop he lapsed in his pace to peer in. Surely enough, just starting to stack the chairs was Bill Denbrough. Had he worked the shift solo? With the chime of the bells, the man's head jerked up in surprise. 

"Hey," Eddie greeted, hands naturally finding the back of his pockets, "Working alone?" 

"Ah ye-yeah," He chuckled, scratching at his neck with the free hand, "Stan had plans and didn't think you should be working with yo-your shoulder."

A half smile touched the Guardian's lips as he looked Bill over, tattered and faded jeans and an equally scruffy Led Zepellin shirt. He could guess how he was friends with Richie. Contrary to when the sun was out the man's auburn hair was a mousey brown in the autumnal light, giving him an older look. There was something he wanted to say to him, it was on the tip of his tongue fighting for release and yet... He didn't know what as he brushed it off and saddled beside the man. Nudging his shoulder gently. 

"It's getting better," The brunette assured him, "Slowly but surely."

"I really am suh-sorry for how I acted back in the hospital," Bill admissions, lip tugging down to the left, "You didn't deserve that... Neither did he." 

Eddie said it was alright because, for the most part, it was. It was alright but he'd be lying if he didn't sometimes cringe at how personally he'd taken Bill's words, especially when they weren't even about him when Bill knew Richie better than him. In the end, both of them had moved past it as the Guardian helped to the best of his ability to stack chairs correctly although it didn't last long when the other was a bigger worrier than Stan. But Eddie wouldn't be himself if he didn't ignore the advice as he kept stacking them and, deservedly so, felt his arm give way under the pressure. A string of curses flew under him breathe at that moment as he prepared for the entire chair to topple on him... Only it didn't. Opening his eyes, unfurrowing his brows he looked up to see Bill holding the top of the chair up, arm stretch above his head as he pushed it back up. Surprised at the strength in what were skinny arms Eddie held his tongue as he caught the look Bill was giving him, feeling the height difference more than ever. The only one Eddie didn't have a substantially large gap with was Bev and truthfully, he'd never let it bother him too much until now. He felt tiny and truthfully he didn't know whether he hated it or not. 

"I thought I told you to sit down," Bill murmured, breath shuddering from the move to stop the chair, "Knew this would hah-happen."

He wasn't stuttering as much as when he first met him, Eddie noted quipishly before giving a sheepish smile. He wasn't about to apologize for it as he still held the belief had he been paying more attention it wouldn't have happened and yet, all the same, he sighed. 

"I know," He muttered, "I know."

"Wait here till I finish up," Bill said kindly, hand raising to brush dust out of the shorter man's hair, "We can walk to Bev's later."

Eye twitching from his hair being touched the Guardian kept it in, not because he wanted to but because he took a look at the man's smile doing so and felt his mouth well shut without consent. He wasn't going to steal that smile when he seemed so light and amused, he guessed seeing someone else after a five-hour solo shift was a relief in and of itself. Only after the eye contact broke did Eddie register the second part of the sentence. 

"Bev's?" He repeated, small smile lifting, "Another movie night?"

"Noh-Not quite," Came a faraway reply, "She looked through old photos and got nostalgic, wants a night of stupid games like twister and spin the bottle."

Spin the bottle... Well, there was no doubt they'd have to be drunk tonight and that in itself was alright but it wasn't the games on his mind. It was his target, weeks out of the hospital and having trouble walking straight, Richie Tozier, who he was fretting over at the moment. Drinking was fine but he'd have to monitor it and that made for a less than enjoyable night for the Guardian, target-sitting while he watched him make out with his friends. Not the ideal night but, alas, when Bill came out he greeted him with a smile and let's go gesture. 

____________________________________

"You're fidgeting,"

It was the couple's second date. The couple being Stan and Mike, the date being at a restaurant the Guardian would've never picked out of his at times meagre salary, or just out of his lack of affinity for expensive meat. All the same, the two had spent the last hour talking about little things, holding hands and maintaining a degree of romantic eye contact, that is until one of them got flustered. You might've never guessed it but half the time it was Mike. Fidgeting, that's right Stan was a little antsy with worry or his friend. Why? He couldn't quite explain but he had a lurking feeling he should be watching out for him, for decisions he makes. 

"It's just Eddie..." Stan admitted.

"He's doing great," They reassured gently, although the smile was followed by the twitch of an eye, "He's going to have a nostalgic night I assume, a certain feeling will arise once more."

"What do you mean?" The Guardian frowned, "I'd appreciate a less ominous reassurance." 

With a fond smile, Mike patted their lover's hands, brushing it all off as they had indeed forgotten about his memories, how he'd voluntarily whiped them for the being... It was easy to forget sometimes. Because of that, they couldn't well tell him that Eddie would be going through some old feelings tonight and, thankfully, not ones for Tozier. They had faith he'd get through the mission before those resurfaced. No, feelings from an elementary crush would come back to Eddie Kaspbrak tonight, not memories but feelings. Cupid would be lying if they said they weren't interested to see how it all panned out because as powerful he was he wasn't omnipotent, couldn't tell the future. But then again what would be the fun in knowing everything? Life was meant to be full of surprises. With that their train of thought went back to the man in front of them and the way his stormy eyes looked into the glass he was drinking in phased out bliss. They wouldn't give this away for anything. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________-

When they reached the door of Bev's house he was a little awestruck, it was a house. No, they were inside an apartment, that was for sure, but the entire floor was one part, her house was an entire floor and on its own, it looked like a garden, floorboards painted a light summer's green, walls a midnight blue. He felt as if he'd walked into a time warp, an inverted depiction of a dream garden, mock white picket fence and all. It was the type of garden you'd want or your kids to play with but the colours... Were that of a creative and restless mind. That was Bev, to a tee. Sensing his shock Bill cracked up, nudging him a little as he moved to grab the handle. 

"It's her, what did you expect?" He whispered to him, "She's crazy."

The Guardian wasn't sure about that but as soon and they came in the smell of Chinese food hit him while he greeted by two figures. Surely sitting in the window, long mesh dress curled around her, was Bev Marsh, red hair tied in a bun and cigarette dangling from her fingers carelessly. As always Eddie couldn't help but note how pretty she was, so observantly so that he didn't notice who she was sitting next to her, looking well out of her depth. It was Kate, the girl two days ago he'd made a full and extensive breakfast for, blonde locks in a braid, maroon jumper down to her knees and jeans with a hem that caressed beige suede boots - She was a total contrast to the woman beside her, both in visual and personality. While Bev sat with one foot up on the window and other dangling, arms lazily leaning on her knee, Kate sat cross-legged, clasping a bottle of beer that couldn't have been sipped more than twice. Remembering the plans for tonight Eddie bit back a small laugh. 

"Eddie!"  

Hopping off the window, tipping the cigarette into a glass ashtray, she came forward to give him a hug, letting her curling hair brush his cheek softly. She smelt of cigs and lavender and while the combination was something deadly up close he returned the hug, hiding the smile in her shoulder as she was careful of his, and its dislocation. Pulling back only enough to his ear she opened her mouth. 

"I don't know how I feel about her,"

Now completely stepping back she was biting her lip waiting for some kind of confirmation she wasn't being weird, overanalysing her best friend's girlfriend to hell and back. It was with the brief silent exchange Eddie found himself nodding, she'd see if Kate seemed okay to her tonight with all the stupid games. It wasn't intentional but Eddie found himself becoming curious as he'd never seen Kate around Richie when he was with his friends, and apparently, Bev hadn't either. It was easy enough to see Kate was enamoured with the guy she spent all her time with, if they were alone, but in a group was another question, for all they knew Richie might tone down the jokes completely in her presence. If he didn't then the whole group could agree that she was stronger than any of them. Eddie gave Bev a look as if to say they'd find out together as she turned to Bill and gave him a brief hug and messed up his already untidy hair. 

"Oh," Bev started, turning back to Kate, "This is Big Bill. Big Bill this is Kate."

Standing from her perch on the window sill the woman gave a disarming smile when sticking out her hand, doing it enthusiastically as if relieved to have someone else to talk to. He remembered that night when she'd confronted Richie, how she'd called her Beverly, not Bev, It was too early to read into it but he wouldn't be surprised if the two didn't become instant friends, like her best friend Bev wasn't someone everyone loved instantly. All the same, they would all ignore the awkwardness until further notice. 

"And-"

Just as the redheaded woman was ready to open her mouth the front door swung open and a bag of bottles but dropped to the floor in exhaustion, sweat beading off a curl-covered forehead. It was naturally none other than Richie Tozier. Peeking a look in the bad Eddie saw a variety of nasty drinks as he decided solemnly to not mix his, sticking to some kind of cider. Moving from the bags a crease appeared in his own forehead at how tired the man was after just carrying a bag of alcohol up a flight of stairs as it confirmed the suspicion of his recovery being a slow process and one that would be inevitably halted in aid of drinking tonight. The Guardian hadn't forgotten that he was majorly here to target-sit. Head removed from between his legs Richie's eyes landed on him straight away with a wise-cracking smile mirroring it. 

" _Eddie Spaghetti!_ "

With no surprise to anyone, one of the bottles in the bag had already been opened yet the heat still rose to Eddie's face as he deliberated a non-violent response. Eddie... Spaghetti... Walking up to him to take the bad to the kitchen desk he paused beside the lanky and already tipsy man. 

"You call me that again I'll put you on a booze lockdown until you recover." He muttered murderously.

Eyes widening faux dramatically a relaxed smile slipped back onto his target's face despite the lockdown, and as exasperated as he was Eddie knew better than to reason with a tipsy Tozier. The rest of the night leading up to the games went much how he'd expected it as Ben arrived an hour later with a bottle ready and preparedly sitting beside his girlfriend, landing a soft kiss under her eye and, despite everything, despite his own seasoned hatred of love, Eddie felt a swell of happiness for the two of them at that moment just like he had for Stan. They conversed and drank until the fine time of half eleven as the more Kate and Bev conversed the more obvious their lack of commonality became, no matter how sweet either of the girls was they couldn't keep up small talk long. Seated far away from Richie as the games were brought into the conversation he couldn't help but remember last time they'd all been together like this, how being this far away from him had been enough to trigger a deadly prick in his wrist. And for a split second, he felt that excruciating sensation once more, like the feelings he occasionally got in his gut Eddie clutched his wrist

"Are you-" Richie started.

"Spin the bottle first?" 

Whatever he'd been about to say to him he'd never know. 

"Sure."

_______________________________________________________________________________

In preparation the group of friends continued the drinking until they were all substantially pissed, laughing at every little noise and nudging each other like twelve-year-olds. The first two rounds were between the two couples of the group as they exhibited widely different kinds of kisses, whereas even tipsy Kate felt modest she merely gave her boyfriend a quick peck, leaving him wanting more, Ben and Bev mutually initiated a heavy start before pulling apart with a loving smile. The act would've been sickening if it wasn't them and if Eddie didn't have a reasonably rosy rose' induced glow about him. It was Richie's turn to spin the bottle now and it was in those few seconds between the bottle stopping that the brunette thanked the stars there was a strip and skip option and the lid caught on his shoe treacherously. 

"Pass," Eddie excused himself singularly as he shrugged off his jacket, "Not drunk enough."

 _"Hey,"_ The scruffy man whined compulsively, "I'm a... Catch,"

Resisting the urge to laugh at his pause the Guardian soon caught that he'd notice he was still adorning the Tori Amos shirt which, upon being scrutinised, he hid with his knees to his chest. Was he supposed to give it back? He'd never know since as soon as he'd observed him he'd looked away to take a swig from his bottle, a bottle sporting a label he wasn't even sure was in English. If he was sick he swore he'd blow a fuse. Spurred on by a glance from Ben he realized it was his turn to spin the bottle and he did so with no precision and only the luck of any God he hadn't disobeyed on his side. By the grace of this imaginary and unoffended God, the bottle stopped on none other than Bev Marsh who was flopped right beside him with a sunny smile. 

"Bring it in Eddie boy," She welcomed, hand still on top of her boyfriends relaxedly. 

With no sense of shame or unfriendly nature, the Guardian brought his lips briefly to his friend's, enjoying it as much as you would being in a warm embrace. Leaning back from it he shared a smile with the woman as she pulled him under her other arm in warm appreciation for the gentle display that earned no hoots or hums from Richie or disapproving shakes of the head from Ben. It was a display of platonic affection that he didn't mind at all. With an exaggerated whirl, Bev took her turn and watched it spin like a cat watching a goldfish, curious and in awe until it stopped and her grin stooped to that of a teenager. 

"Oh woe is my teenage heart," She proclaimed, hand to her chest, "Come here Billy boy, let me live my childhood dream," 

With an equally humorous grin, Bill watched as his long-time friend scooted towards him and rose his eyebrows as his face was clasped. A little surprised himself Eddie watched as Bev leaned down to his lips before, last minute, pulling his face so far down she planted a fat kiss onto his forehead where Bill was now branded with a bright red and furious lipstick mark. Eyes wide as she scooted back the group gave a collected laugh as the man tried to wipe the product from his face. with his sleeve, not achieving much. 

"Sorry big Bill," She sang over to him, "Don't want to get too touchy with my man, you know, right here,"

It was with a little sympathy Eddie had indeed noticed her lover's knawed lip when she went over there, how he was a little worried what with a past of unrequited crushes, Bev's on Bill, his on her. The Guardian couldn't blame him for that, he supposed, no matter how out of depth that feeling was to him. It was now Bill's turn to spin the bottle and out of all of them, he was seemingly the most nervous, tracking it with a filtered gaze and knitted brows. It passed Kate, and Richie, and Bev and as it dwindled between her it tipped onto Eddie who, in a world of his own, barely noticed it had stopped at all until he was nudged with a sharp elbow. Lifting his head he met Bill's eyes who were still portraying a nervous glimmer, a faint inner worry, following his gaze another pair of eyes as a mouth opened. 

"Oh, are we getting another article of clothing off Eds?" Richie asked, more genuinely asking than mocking, his eye twitching ever so slightly, "Pass?"

"No, actually," The Guardian found himself reply, eyes flickering between the two of them. "I rather like staying clothed."

"Are you sh-sure?"

Yes, he was quite sure he didn't mind. He'd had a few drinks in him, and he'd kissed Bill Denrbough once before, he didn't see the harm in a second time as the man shuffled across the floor beside him, awkwardly moving his hands, not quite knowing what to do as a grown man playing such a game. Letting his eyes waver across his friends face he found his breath strangely hitching when he drew closer, and when his lips actually met him? Waves upon waves of unnatural and impossible nostalgia washed over the Guardian as if he was reliving a scenario from years ago, as if he was still a teenager, one with a crush on his friend and trouble processing intimacy. 

That was exactly what it felt like, and he'd be lying if this didn't feel like a reality as he forgot to even pull back, only stopping when the other tried to move forward, causing him to slip back and put pressure on high right arm which, physically, brought him back to reality and yet mentally... He felt like he was living in that world, the universe where years prior when he was but a kid, he a had been more than a little in love with the auburn-haired writer-to-be. Why... Why did he now feel... Devastated? He didn't know what word to use and he observed Bill who seemed affected, definitely, but not in the same way. Whereas Eddie felt like he'd just experienced five years of unrequited love and renewal, the other simply looked like he'd gotten carried away with a kiss. Shuffling back to his seat, mutual hoots coming from the groups, the only voice he didn't hear was the one of a person staring at him in confusion. Raising his own brown-specked eyes to meet Richie's his eyebrows drew together and he tried to decipher his expression... But he couldn't, not sober, not drunk could he have known what that look in his eyes meant. Funny thing was? Richie Tozier couldn't have told you either.

 

The night continued on, the games continued for another two around until it was packed in for Twister, and Twister lasted as long as it could until Richie lost his balance, crushing everyone beneath him with who at the bottom other than Eddie himself. After that the Guardian would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little lethargic, choosing to join Bev on the couch as Ben had gone to get her water. Opening her arms he found himself natural laying there comfortably. She really was becoming his favourite. With calloused and gentle hands she combed through his hair before releasing a sigh. 

"She's a good kisser," Bev told him, referencing their later round of spin the bottle, "And she's pretty and smart but..."

"You don't think she's for him?" Eddie frowned, looking up at her anxiously, "They seem perfect for each other,"

"I don't know, Eddie." She admitted, pulling at a lock of his hair, "Call me an overthinker but I don't want him to be stuck with someone expecting constant smiles and jokes 'cause no matter how much shit he talks that isn't him." 

He nodded, he understood that no matter how little of his own experience he had to base it off of. Looking to his target he did notice that his smile when near Kate, wouldn't falter or fall no matter how sore his face got and although drunk there were bags under his eyes and strain in his shoulders. All the same, he slid down the floor to Bill who scrambled like Bambi on ice to catch him, a string of curses following as Kate laughed along. The two on the couch shared a look before biting their lips to hold the comments in. Bev's comment was serious and worth remembering but it was hard to carry on the serious talk when the man was acting like a total ass. 

"It's really sweet that you're like this," He couldn't help but tell her, earning a small smile, "He needs someone who can look out for him like that,"

"You're doing a pretty good job of it too, Eddie." She laughed out, "You're like his guardian angel or something sometimes."

His eyes widened a little at that because, in a way, that was exactly what he was and it was as he looked around to see his target that met someone else's else, Bill Denbrough's. The Guardian dropped his gaze as quickly as he had raised it. Going back to look at the woman she tracked where he had been looking before stifling a laugh, letting a pure rumble vibrate, trapped smoke making her sound a little croaky. Patting his head affectionately she pulled herself up, moving to his forehead before pulling her hand back with confusion. 

"I think you should go to bed," She murmured as Ben came back, "You feel hot,"

If anyone else had told him to go to bed he would've put on a front, boasted that he wasn't as weak as them and didn't need sleep but... It was Bev, and truthfully? He wanted to avoid an increase in his heart rate and both Richie and Bill who do just that, in different ways. So with a deep sigh, he pulled himself up, letting her direct him to the room he'd sleep in before going back to the couch, to her boyfriend, as they would cuddle and watch Richie make an ass of himself - something he suspected they'd been doing a very long time. 

That night Eddie Kaspbrak slept with a stranger known as the feeling of deja-vu, and it was a restless night sleep at that. Sleeping in a shirt that fits all too well, a kiss that tasted like the summer of his last year in high school and dislocated shoulder were all things guaranteed to plague the best man's mind and plague it did as the Guardian slept, conscious of every little turn. 

 

 

 


	18. A Little Spilt Coffee

It was with a pinch of a hangover and a surprisingly empty bedroom Eddie came to that morning, legs spread widely as he took up the unfamiliar double bed. He had enough memory of Bev telling him to go to bed, saying he felt hot, and he remembered coming to bed and well... Conking the hell out. A little stiff in the shoulder the Guardian stifled a lawn as he dragged himself up, appreciating what was assumably the most minimalistic room in the house as it looked more like a study with a bed in it than an actual bedroom. Taking his time to walk into the centre room he couldn't not sigh a little sigh of relief when he saw Beverly Marsh sitting on the rotating kitchen stool, a cup of coffee warming her pale hands as she tilted her head from side to side, ashtray sitting beside a jug of milk. 

"You doing okay?" He asked her tentatively, sitting beside her on the other stool. "Hangover?" 

Looking up from her coffee the woman blinked a couple times before settling into a lazy smile that gave the impression of one well on her way to recovering from a night drinking. Red hair pinned up in a messy bun, long white obviously-Ben's-shirt reaching her knees graciously and skin devoid of any makeup she looked like the heroine of an eighties romcom. 

"Not quite," She replied in a lower tone, looking around her scattered living room before sighing, "Kate left for work... You know, in her Volvo."

"Come on," Eddie murmured, sputtering a laugh at the jibe, "What about the rest of them?"

"Ben's not gonna be awake till dinner," She waved off, although beaming fondly as she did so, "Ever the lightweight. Big Bill's gone off to school because... You know, he cares about all that shit and Richie?"

Raising an eyebrow at her heightened tone he turned around to, in fact, see Richie Tozier passed out half on the couch and half on the floor, glasses nowhere to be seen. Shaking his head ever so imperceptibly the Guardian didn't have an ounce of the energy to criticise an unconscious Tozier as he shifted back to Bev with a half-smile. At least he did until he saw the smile turn that extra bit sunny, that was it. The _your turn to look after Richie_ smile. He hadn't expected much else he'd been doing it for long enough now and yet... A conversation without words and this is what it comes down to. Giving a reluctant nod Bev ruffled his hair gave a sigh of relief. 

"You're the best, Eddie," She praised with a grateful sigh, "I have a meeting today and... Believe it or not, a wide range of my colleagues aren't crazy about him after seeing him walk around half naked a couple times," 

With a mortified look she received from him the woman laughed, grabbing a croissant from a bread-shaped box, stuffing it in her mouth as she twirled around him to leave for work. As hard as he tried... As much as Eddie wanted to leave he knew better. Saw the way Bev paused at her friend's body before nudging it with her sandal-clad foot, the way one might rub a sleeping cat's belly. Content with the groan of a reply she turned to give the Guardian one last wave before making her exit, leaving behind a still-messy apartment. It was, decidedly, the least he could do to tidy until the grown baby awoke with a hangover, or worse, none and a chipper attitude. 

It took Richie Tozier exactly three more hours to wake up and when he did he was neither hangover nor overly excitable. He simply was. With a various slew of groans and yawns, he found himself alone. Or, to his knowledge alone. Eddie Kaspbrak had long since finished cleaning and had taken to having a shower to which he was assured he was welcome to. He didn't see the harm as his target was a log at this point. In the shower, he had various discussions in his head such as; whether to take Bev's feelings on Kate to heart, whether to look for a backup boyfriend or girlfriend for Richie, and whether _target_ felt like an appropriate thing to keep referring him to him as. The last one the Guardian knew his Boss would agree with, why should he refer to Richie as anything but a _target_? Well, he didn't know but it was starting to feel wrong to refer to a living, breathing person as a target and number. 

These thoughts required a longer thinking-time than a shower provided so Eddie walked out of the shower with a heavy mind, clothes from yesterday weighing him down as a towel hung around his shoulder to catch stray drops. By all accounts, he'd expected to see a still sleeping Tozier so you can imagine his panic when the man was not, in fact, on the floor but at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee steaming up a glasses-less face. He looked surprisingly...Decent.

"I think the coffee's out of date. Can coffee go out-?" 

"Knowing your luck it is," The Guardian murmured under his breathe as he strode forwards, taking a sniff of the coffee, " _Christ. Okay come on we're getting food or coffee in town,"_

Showing no qualms to the decision Eddie was almost worried. That was until they started walking and like usual the words didn't stop flowing, neither did the jokes. With every little groan, he seemed to motivate the man to do it more, persist. Claiming he knew where the best coffee in town was Eddie was instructed- _instructed_ \- to stay put until he came back with a coffee for himself and an ice tea. If it was any other day and Eddie wasn't feeling his time on earth take a toll then maybe he would've protested, even a little bit... His head was fuzzy and a peculiar happy-morning Tozier wasn't a being he was keen to meddle with on a lack of sleep.  Waiting, and people-watching the Guardian was sparsely thankful for being stuck with Richie Tozier but one perk remained true- no pesky stream of love from the other love-obsessed teens. Free of any petty drama he was instead trapped with an adult man with clear emotional issues that he was started to care a little too much about, if he was honest.

Once again without his glasses, the lanky man waved to him lazily, coming towards him at a pace he wasn't sure his target realized was faster than normal for him. Wait... Without glasses? Ready to tell him to calm down, slow down, and remember he wasn't fully healed by the time Eddie Kaspbrak blinked Richie was suddenly a whole lot closer and tripping over the laces of his tattered converse. Richie, who was blind as a fucking bat. Before he could shout out some defence a fresh cup of Starbucks coffee tipped over him. 

"Fuck-"

Crashing to the ground in what was less than a graceful display the Guardian's eyes strayed scrunched up for a good minute, regulation of breathing seeming more and more difficult when there was a rather large man pushed onto you and a steaming cup of joe on your freshly pressed shirt. Eddie had forgiven a lot of Richie's shortcoming these last few weeks, let a lot of things slide with unprecedented ease and now... This was what was making him want to snap. Rather than the actual incident having this effect, it was more like the accumulation of all the weight on his bruised shoulders, the fact his target just happened to be on the receiving end of it all and... The stench of coffee. He worked with it every day and yet...

"You-" The brunette started,

"Yes?" Came a high reply. 

"Richie Tozier..." Eddie started, eyes opening to descend a glare upon lips refraining a laugh, "You have ten seconds,"

"Or what?"

His target's well-meaning taunt went unnoticed as Eddie's brain whirled into a sandstorm. After the threat of ten seconds, he felt the strangest de-ja-vu, the feeling of being sucked into a memory he wasn't allowed to access like he was narrowly avoiding something. His phantom memories battled with the de-ja-vu tirelessly for what felt like a century, in reality taking a minute as the other man stared down at him with a now fading cocky smiling. Oh, Jesus, he felt lightheaded he felt as if the strain of this was too much. The last thing Eddie Kaspbrak remembered was being scooped u, and belatedly replying to the taunting remark. 

"I'll kick your ass... That's what."

  
**Ten Years Ago**

It was at times like today, right now, little thirteen-year-old Eddie Kaspbrak hated his Mama. Okay, okay hated was overkill, he was frustrated with having Sonia Kaspbrak as his guardian, especially when parents like Richie Tozier's existed. As long as the bespeckled boy made good on his chores his parents didn't mind him staying out with the rest of them, keyword being made good, and that was why he was getting a little of a reputation. It had been a sunny and contented day for the group of friends like it always was in the summertime, activities consisting of pushing each other on the grassy hills and making light of the simplest of things. It was teenagerhood.  Like all good things, it would unavoidably come to an end, at least for the asthmatic brunette who had a curfew far earlier than any of the others. 

"Buh-bye, Eddie,"

"See'ya." 

"Same time tomorrow?"

"Hope you get home okay."

"I get a goodbye kiss?"

It wasn't hard to guess which goodbye came from who, nor was it difficult to guess whose earned him a swift kick to his shoe and furrowing of brows. 

"Beep beep, Richie."

Just like every other summer day he made his way down the hill alone, feeling a pang of unjust sadness fill him resulting in the urge to scuff his shoes in an act of retaliation he knew he'd never go through with. No one in their right mind, under Sonia Kaspbrak's roof, would come home with scuffed up shoes. It just didn't happen. There wasn't a summer the boy remembered where he didn't walk home with a sinking feeling of leaving a safe haven of sorts, because, no matter how much his friends-Richie - wound him up with the relentless teasing it was a way of life, escapism. It was like finishing your favourite book, repeatedly. You knew it had to end again but again and again, you immersed yourself in the hours you got from it. Exhaling through his nose Eddie hit the back of his pocket to feel the aspirator, as always, greeting his palm... Only, it wasn't. With a sharp turn, the internal scream was palpable to anyone in his radius as he bleakly stared up the hill. He wasn't a lazy person or anything it was just that, frankly, in his heart of hearts? He knew there was no way he'd be able to retreat up there without wanting to stay there. It was as he stared at the hill expectantly that he spotted a body at the top of it, standing there in a shadowed stature. Was it Big Bill? No, the legs were too skinny for it to be him.

"Do I spy..." The figure at the top of the hill yelled, hands on his hips and buckled knees out, "My Eds?" 

"Oh, Jesus," Eddie  muttered under his breathe before taking a deep, preparational sigh, "Who _else_ would it be, asshole?" 

"That's no way to talk to the person," Richie started, keeping his stance, "who has your lifeline in his hand?" 

Feeling like Stan Uris himself the eyes rolled to the back of his head, his _lifeline_. It was hardly his lifeline, he had plenty at home and he highly doubted he'd have an attack between there and home. Then again... If he were to go home without it there was a high probability of not being allowed out for a fortnight. So, in a way he guessed Richie was right, it was his lifeline. 

"Just throw it down, Rich." He shouted up, feeling every second passing his curfew. 

He didn't have to see him clearly to know the other boy was grinning like a madman, and he certainly didn't need to when he started running down with his spindly legs going down the hill a mile a minute, manic laugh sounding. Leaning to the right Eddie had to suppress a little laugh as he waited for the boy to reach him, left arm wildly in the air grasping his aspirator, and in the right his cup of coffee, black as always. It was a little too late that he noticed Richie did not, in fact, have his glasses on. And by a little too late he meant far, far to late as his entire body smacked into him with a force, the cup of his caffeinated drink with it. Eddie Kaspbrak didn't need to open his scrunched up eyes to know the lukewarm liquid had sloshed all over his fresh shirt, to know his friend was sporting a goofy grin the size of the blazing sun. The same as said boy didn't need to be a mindreader to know Eddie was ready to flip his shit. 

"Richie Tozier..." The brunette started, careful to not taste the vile drink splattered on him, "You have ten seconds,"

"But what if," Richie started, tasting his lips that he knew would be sucked all the way in if he pushed more, "I'm comfortable here?" 

Without so much as the second thought the smaller boy slipped his leg up before angling it, foot flat against his friend's chest as he, with all his might, pushed so hard the lanky limbs flew over his head and onto their back. The boys pushed each other on the grass for a couple more minutes, Richie in fun and Eddie in pure vengeance. It didn't take long before the lankier of the two surrendered with his arms clasped behind his back and offered the gift of a house with a washing machine in apology. Reluctant to speak an admission of an agreement the short merely walked in the general direction of his friend's home, not questioning whether he was being flanked. He knew he was. The walk wasn't that long.

"I'm still mad at you."

"I know."

"I probably won't see you for the next few days..."

"I _know_ ,"

The last two admissions were glum.

"... But that doesn't mean my window won't be open."

At that one last comment, the two boys eyes met and they stifled a laugh, smiles curling mischievously. Sure, Eddie was a little peeved that he'd face Sonia's curfew-lecture (especially after avoiding it so long) and that he would be trapped inside for a while but it was a couple days out of a whole summer. She would never be angrier over curfew than dirt, he knew that. And there was also the fact... He got a little more time out of his house, time with someone he genuinely liked _most_ of the time. Never had being in Richie Tozier's company been so pleasant than moments like these, forbidden ones his Mother wouldn't have wanted him to have. Sonia Kaspbrak wasn't much of a fan of Richie. Or most of his friends for that matter, but there was an elevation in spending time with the mop-haired boy more than anyone else. _Sure_ he could be loud and obnoxious and irritating but those were all the things he never knew he needed in a friend, Eddie needed someone who tested his patience in some way, who forced him out of his plagued and cautious mindset. He would never tell him it to his face but Eddie was in fact very dependent on the long-legged boy, more so than any of their other friends. Whereas his Mom hated the promiscuous rumours surrounding Bev, the conflicting religious beliefs of Stan, and the suspicious way her son's eyes twinkled talking about Bill Denbrough she would never hate any of them the way she did Richie's entire character. From the little remarks forever on his lips to his gawky glasses and untidy hair to the fact whenever Eddie came home with a speck of dirt he was almost always in his company. Sonia Kaspbrak did not like him one bit, and the brunette loved that. 

As if crashing down from a fantasy cloud Maggie Tozier entered the room, Eddie's now neatly folded and clean shirt in her arms. Eddie actually really liked his friend's parents, maybe Wentworth a little less but all the same he returned Maggie's smile as he collected his shirt. 

"It's always so nice to see you, Eddie," She said a little wistfully, "Richie always seems so happy after hanging out with you." 

"Mom!" The dark-haired boy all but screeched, " _Stop_ ,"

With thin arms the boy spun his Mother from the room, ultimately shutting the door on her, breathing laboured as he slumped against the door refusing to meet Eddie's eyes. Staring at him with wide eyes the brunette recounted the entire exchange before choking out a chortle eventually letting it turn into an all-out laughing fit, clutching his stomach. Standing up he slinked towards his friend at the door, an annoying smile plastered to his face. 

"So-"

" _Don't_."

"You're always happy after we hang out, huh?" 

Lifting his unnaturally shaky pupils the boy sniffed begrudgingly before hiking his shoulders up, trying to force the redness out of his face and failing. As if it was a chore Richie barked out a laugh. 

"I mean, after we _all_ hang out yeah, of course. You're my friends."

"That isn't what your Mom said," Eddie prolonged, wicked smile permeating itself. He never got to tease Richie like this. "You're happy after hanging out with _me_. That's what she said."

"Yeah, well," he said, squinting up at him, shorter as his knees bent to support his stance against the door, "course I am. Why would I be friends with a loser?"

"We're all losers, 'Chee," Eddie brushed off, eyebrows raised in a newly powerful gesture, "Just _last week_ you called me a camp _Emmett Forrest,_ " 

"That's because you _are_ ,"

"Give me another reason, Richie."

"Cause... You're kinda funny, Eds."

"Kinda? Best you could do? Richie, I'm fucking hilarious-"

"I know, I know," His friend appeased, standing back up to his full height slowly, "But you know what else you are? Why else I love hanging out with you?" 

"I'm amazing company?" The young boy guessed dubiously, "I put up with you?" 

"You are," Richie started, placing his hands on his shoulders, now looking down at him, " _Cute, cute, cute!"_

In the same moment hands were on his shoulders Eddie felt hands go to his cheeks in a painstakingly familiar act to which the heat bubbled to his face in retaliation to. As if scalded by a freshly boiled kettle he jerked back with flailing arms before meeting his friend's pleased gaze with an unrealistic look of contempt. He hated it, he did more than anything else. Being called cute... That's what you called a baby, and Eddie Kaspbrak was thirteen. It was so different from Bev's casual habit of calling them _babe_ , there was something humiliating about the cheek pinching gesture. But... Like a victim of Stockholm syndrome, the boy feared if Richie were to stop the act entirely it would feel a loss. A loss! Even so, the two friends regarded each other before sinking onto the same bed, although not without the brunette giving the other a hard shove.

"And here I thought I would get a serious answer..."

"You did,"

 _Not_ what he needed to hear right now. With slitted eyes, he instructed the other boy to turn around as he changed which earned an eye-roll and elaborate turning on his shoes. It made an ugly squeak on the hardwood floor. Humming to himself he knew there was a comment coming. 

"Why do I have to turn around?"

"You're a pervert,"

"And you're not much to look at, Eds,"

"Says the one calls me cute...Repeatedly,"

A noise was made in the back of his friend's throat that Eddie paid no heed to. This was typical of them and it was natural instinct the fire back such a response. Who was Eddie to be offended when the words came from a friend whose room sported pin-up girls and dead musicians? No, he wasn't much to look at and he'd be rather worried if his long-time best friend thought him so. What type of warped world would that be? These questions didn't occupy his mind long as along the way space was taken up by bantering of all sorts, scolding for the scuffing of new shoes, and plans for when Eddie wouldn't be grounded. They reached his house in what seemed like two minutes.

"Still no goodbye kiss?"

With a posed thumb and index finger Eddie Kaspbrak flicked his friend on the forehead. At thirteen years how were you supposed to take an offer like that seriously? At thirteen the boy was still a year off from realizing how serious of an offer it was, and a good while more than that from accepting it. Even so, with an amused chuckle and sigh, he returned the salute from the scruffy boy as he turned for the door, neglecting the reality he was about to face. He was in for a restless and argumentative night and yet? He wouldn't take back this sunny day, for the world. 

_

**Sneak Peak of Next Chapter**

"I'm surprised you dont smoke," He started. "Along with all your other bad habits." 

"Someone I loved a lot had asthma," Richie said tiredly, arm behind his head. "He didn't say anything but he didn't like hugging me when I smelt of cigs." 

"He as in...Him?" Eddie asked quietly, not wanting to prod too much, for a change. "The one you can't really remember?"

"Yeah," His target sighed. "That one."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is a little filler chapter as while it is important!! Most of the time flashbacks won't have their own chapter and will be a part of a bigger one! I also... May update again this week as :') my school is having a holiday till tuesday.


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